House of Masquerades
by imjce
Summary: As a family, they only have each other. Blood is thicker than water. But is it truly? When the love of her life threatens that stability, will Cosima be able to choose between her heart's desire, or loyalty to her family? Behind closed doors, the Black family has dirty secrets that cannot see the light of day. Joined by blood & marriage, but torn by greed, everything is fair game.
1. Chapter 1: You're Late

**CH 1: You're Late**

The time on his watch read thirty past ten. They were already thirty minutes late, yet they didn't have the common courtesy to phone ahead. Their time was precious, but his wasn't? Carl had half a mind to walk out on this farce of a meeting, if not for the fact that he needed the money. That's all it came down to in the end: money.

"How much longer do you want to wait?"

Carl honestly didn't know. This meeting had been months in the making. He was playing hard to get, that was his plan, but in the end, he wanted to close the deal. "Let's give them half an hour more. If they don't show up, then we'll reconsider our options."

"Your property will be marked as deal fell through. It might lower your market value."

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes time. Let's just hope it—"

There was a single knock at the door. The door to the board room came undone, and in walked three women, each with their own unique style, make-up, and even their perfumes differed. The only thing the three women had in common was their similar facial construct.

"Apologies for the wait."

Carl got up, as did his counsel, as they waited for the women to be seated.

Rachel Duncan Black took the front and center seat. On her left was a woman that screamed soccer mom, though she looked out of place with that pant suit of hers. And to Rachel's left, was a woman that had an air of delinquency and rebellion that surrounded her.

Carl had already met Rachel prior to this meeting, though the other two were a mystery to him.

"Sarah Manning Black."

Carl shook her hand. "Carl de Boer. Nice to meet you."

"Alison Black."

Carl shook her hand, too.

"If you don't mind me asking," Carl gestured at the three women, "Are you at all related, somehow? Cause let me tell you, you guys can pass as triplets."

Alison opened her notebook, and had a pen in hand. "We're sisters, Mr. de Boer. That's very observant of you."

Carl was not amused. That condescending tone was not missed.

"Have you reconsidered our offer, Mr. de Boer?" Rachel cut to the chase.

"I have."

"Then do we have a deal?"

Carl slid the Purchase Agreement across the table. "No, we don't."

Sarah grabbed the agreement, and went over the counteroffer. "You want a purchase price, 50% over its market value?"

"50%?!" Alison couldn't believe what she was hearing. After a bit of quick math, she said, "You want $3,500,000 for your property?"

"Yes." Carl de Boer smirked, "Yes, I do. And believe me when I say, it's worth every penny."

"That's not all." Sarah continued, "He wants to push the closing date, too. He wants 180 days for closing."

Rachel said nothing, nor did her facial expression express unease, unlike her two sisters did.

"180 days for a vacant property?" Alison wasn't pleased. "That'll delay the entire project by six month, at least. Maybe more, given the complexity of Phase One."

"The terms aren't agreeable." Sarah stated firmly, "You have far too many conditions favorable to you, as the Seller, and not us, the Buyers."

"Where is Mrs. de Boer?" Rachel asked, "Do you not want to consult with her first?"

"I speak for my wife. We're in agreement about this sale."

"This is extortion, Mr. de Boer, and you damn well know it." Alison was usually the levelheaded one, but this jerk rubbed her the wrong way. "Black Crown Corp. will not give in to such unreasonable demands."

The grin on Carl's face could rival that of a used car salesman; it was that slimy. "Well, maybe you should have thought about that, before you started buying up the neighborhood, left and right. And unfortunately for you, I'm the single lockout standing in your way."

"This is where I believe you're mistaken, Mr. de Boer." Rachel spoke in an even tone, "You speak as if you have a say in the matter."

Carl turned, and whispered something into his counsel's ear. This went back and forth for awhile, before the pair stood up. "I don't like your tone, Mrs. Black."

"Oi. It's Ms. Black, you pikachu. She kept her maiden name." Sarah spoke up.

Carl couldn't give two-shits less. "We're done here."

The three Black sisters remained unfazed.

And just in the nick of time, too. The double oak door swung wide open, with such force that it knocked the door stopper off the wall, and left a huge indent in the cheap drywall behind it.

"Oh, crap-nugget!"

Carl de Boer looked from the Black sisters at one end of the room, then to the woman that stood before him, then to the Black sisters once more.

"Jesus Christ. Really? There's more of you?"

"I got it!" Cosima waved the triumphant trophy in the air. "I got her to sign it."

"Sign what?"

Rachel quickly skimmed through the document. And that's when, for the first time all morning, she pulled her thin lips back, and genuinely smiled. She tossed the document across the glossy table.

"That right there, Mr. de Boer, is the paperwork for the dissolution of your marriage."

"And these," Cosima waved in Carl's face. "Are pictures of you and the nanny, well...it's self explanatory. Woah! Are those anal beads?"

"Cosima!" Alison exclaimed.

"Where did you get those?!" Carl made an attempt to grab the pictures back, only to have them yanked from his grasp.

"Nuh-uh." Cosima teased, "These are mine. You already have copies sent to your residence."

Carl's face flushed two shades redder. The vein on his neck looked about ready to pop.

Cosima picked out one particular snapshot. "With all due respect, man, your nanny is one flexible woman. I mean, the wheelbarrow looks easy, but the amount of upper body strength needed to maintain that position, is no joke. Is she into CrossFit?"

"That's enough, Cosima." Rachel said sternly. "In your prenuptial agreement, a particular clause states that if you should be unfaithful during the course of your marriage to Charlene Maude née Trenbeth, you waive the right to file for spousal support. But also, you forfeit the rights to any properties held under your joint names."

"Where..." Carl couldn't think properly; his mind was spinning in every direction. "Where did you get a copy of my prenup?!"

Alison nodded her head, to the man next to him. "Mr. Rose was more than willing to comply with our request."

"Paul?!" Carl slapped him on the shoulder. "What the fuck, man?! You're supposed to me my legal counsel!"

"Actually, it's the Trenbeth foundation, that signs my pay cheque. Not you. Now that Ms. Trenbeth has expressed her wishes to file for dissolution, I must recuse myself. You're going to need another lawyer." Paul straightened the collar of his suit, turned and said, "Good day, ladies."

Sarah walked up, and handed a stunned Carl de Boer, a copy of his prenuptial agreement, with the relevant clause highlighted. Cosima, taking this as her cue, handed him the newly signed Purchase Agreement, courtesy of his newly ex-wife.

"Ms. Charlene Trenbeth has accepted our generous offer."

Carl couldn't believe what he was reading. "You're paying her 50% over market value?! How's that different from my ask?!"

"We have the money. Plenty of it, too." Rachel said coolly. "It's simply a matter of worth. You're not worth that sum of money, Mr. de Boer, by any means. But Ms. Trenbeth, and the connections we've now forged with the Trenbeth family, well, that's what I call a bang for my buck."

Cosima jumped in, "This is the part where you leave with your head held in shame, and we call you a basic bitch, behind your back, of course."

Carl threw the papers to the floor. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot, you cut-throat bitch!"

"Bye, Felicia."

Cosima smiled, "Nice one, Ali."

Sarah handed everything back to Rachel. As did Cosima.

"Come on, Rach, lighten up. You've got to admit, that was pretty melodramatic. I felt like I was on an episode of Law and Order: SVU."

Alison was behind Rachel, and out of her peripheral vision. She shook her head, as if to warn Cosima, not to poke the bear.

"Is this funny to you, Cos?" Rachel asked sternly. "This isn't a game. This is reality. People's livelihood depend on this project succeeding. If this project was to fall through, do you know how many people would lose their jobs? Not the mention the amount of time and energy and effort we've collectively put forth."

Of the lot, Rachel was the eldest one. And much like younger siblings, nobody dared talk back to her. And that included Alison and Sarah, as well as Cosima.

"You should've been on time." Rachel continued, "Don't make a habit of it, Cosima. It's for your own good."

Without another word, Rachel headed out the door. Alison followed behind, but as she left, she mouthed the words, "Ignore her. Good job, Cos."

When Sarah was certain Rachel was out of earshot, she draped an arm around Cosima's shoulder, and pulled her in. "You know how Rach gets, Cos. It's all about work, work, work with her. She doesn't mean it."

"I had to haul ass from the helipad, catch an Uber, and then run up eight flights of stairs. And don't get me started on how creepy my driver was. And all for what? Just so I could make this meeting." Cosima sighed. "Would it kill her to be kind, for once in her life? Is that really so much to ask for?"

Sarah snorted, "Rach? Being nice? To us?"

Cosima pulled her lips back, squinted her eyes, and pulled off the best impression she could, "Rachel Duncan, uber bitch."

"What did you just call me?"

Sarah and Cosima pulled away, faster than polar ends of a magnet. Like so many times during their childhood, they were caught red-handed.

"Oh, shite."

"Uh, uber...bitch?"


	2. Chapter 2: Brothers-in-Law

**CH 2: Brothers-in-Law**

It was Sunday, and supposedly a non-work day, but yet someway, somehow, she found herself at work and late, yet again. Cosima was in her office, with her hands buried deep inside her filing cabinet. She was fishing for a file she had no idea even existed. And though she placed her hands at high risk of a life-threatening paper cut, it did little to deter her from multi-tasking. She had her cellphone jammed between her head and her shoulder, a maneuver she's come to master after years of practice, and broken screens.

"Why am I doing this again?"

"Because you love me. Duh." Cosima stated matter-of-factly. "And because you love my sister, dearly and whole-heartedly. And when you took her as your lawfully-wedded wife, you signed up for this madness. There's no backing out now, is there? You've had a taste of the milk, you can't return the cow, buddy."

"Uh. Are we still talking about Alison?"

"Obviously."

"And you're comparing her to a cow?"

Cosima didn't have time to dwell. "That's beside the point. But you get the idea."

"Such a smooth talker, you are, Cosima. How in the world are you still single?" Donnie said, in the thickest, most sarcastic tone he could muster.

Cosima rolled her eyes. "But all kidding aside, Donnie, I really do appreciate this. I would've gone myself, if Rach wasn't on my ass about this Emerald City project."

"I like to think of it as a plus, for not working in the family business. Not only is it way less stressful, it's less hernias, too, if you think about it."

Cosima's finger finally came upon the file folder she was looking for. But unfortunately for her, the long tab left an imprint on her index finger, in the form of a paper cut. She was so close to being home free, too. Cosima simply sighed, and rubbed the fresh trace of blood onto her skirt.

"Are you sure you gave me the right list?" Donnie asked. "I mean, reading this grocery list alone, gave me diabetes."

"Just do it, Donnie. I can't talk now, I have to go. I'm late for this crappy meeting, as is."

"How are you even late?" Donnie was beyond baffled. "You weren't even supposed to be at work today."

Cosima pretended like she didn't hear that last part. "Bye, honey."

\- o -

It was a late day for work, considering the fact that it was a Sunday. But that's what you get for marrying into the family business; it was a lesson Paul had come to learn the hard way. He would much rather be at home, with a nice glass of Disaronno and Coke on the rocks, as he indulged in Sunday Night Football. The New England Patriots were playing tonight.

Paul made his way downstairs, to the 4th floor, where the general boardrooms were. These days, the majority of his time was spent sitting in dull meetings. But that's what happens when you move up the corporate ladder; when you go from blue collar to white collar. The verdict's still out, as to whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

The door to boardroom C was ajar. Paul held his hand to knock, when the sound of roaring laughter stopped him dead in his tracks. Paul recognized that high-pitched, nasally voice from anywhere. It was Barbara. Paul hated her fat guts with a fiery passion, and with good reason, too. The woman was a blabbermouth. How in the magical fuck, did she manage to retain the position of Divisional Manager of Acquisitions was beyond him.

"Yeah. That's what I heard, too."

"Really? Big dick Paul?"

"It can't be that big, can it?"

"That's all he's good for. We all know he only got the job because of Sarah. If it weren't for her, he would still be on site, nailing boards instead of a Black. Jesus. I fucking hate him."

"That's talent, right there." A woman in an equally pitchy voice said. "If you can knock up a Black, and get her preggers, that's some magical sperm you've got. He's our very own Kevin Federline."

"Too bad they're all taken. Well, except Cosima." A man said rather sadly.

"Are you kidding me?" The same woman replied, "She's the hottest one of the group. Have you seen her?"

The guy scoffed. "Yeah. Good luck with that. You and your magical puanani have a long road ahead of you."

Paul simply stood there, rooted to the floor.

A gentle hand tapped his shoulder. It was Cosima.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

Paul shook his head, smiled and said, "Nothing. I was waiting for you."

And with that, Cosima entered the boardroom, with Paul in tow.

\- o -

It took them nearly two hours' time, to finally agree upon a time frame on when Phase One of Emerald City could commence work. By the time financing, labor, machinery, zoning, licenses, insurance, and every little crap-tastic detail was tentatively finalized, they were looking at six months, maybe even a year. Real estate development was every bit as time consuming as it was a nightmare.

They still had plenty of kinks to work out, but Cosima threw in the white towel. She had plans tonight; ones she simply couldn't blow off.

"Thanks, guys. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Cosima quickly packed up her stuff, and headed out the door after Paul. "Everything okay?"

Paul simply nodded, and smiled, "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I mean, you're awfully quiet. You barely said a word in there."

"I'm fine, Cosima." Paul faked a yawn. "I'm just exhausted, that's all. Between supervising the Emerald site, and caring for Kira, I haven't been getting enough sleep."

"Okay. If you say so." Cosima didn't want to push the matter any further; not after sensing Paul's reluctance. "Anyway. I'm going to head home now. I'm cooking tonight. I'll see you at seven. Don't be late!"

Paul smiled, and headed back the way he came. The elevator was empty. His office was situated on the 8th floor, though that wasn't where he was going. Cosima wasn't wrong. His mood was indeed sour. Everything that came spewing from Barbara's bat lips had struck him, like a stake to the heart. It rang true, though he didn't want to admit it. He was steaming, and he needed to vent that steam, before he exploded in a spectacular flashover.

Paul twisted and turned; he knew exactly where he was going. He walked past the reception desk without so much as a glance at the receptionist. He continued his beeline, till he came upon an office. And there, behind her desk, was a woman on the phone.

"The appraisal isn't until next Wednesday, at eleven."

Paul grabbed the receiver and said, "She'll call you right back."

Claire sat there, completely stunned by his reckless actions. "What the fuck, Paul?! That was a live call, from Singapore!"

Paul grabbed her by the wrist, and led her out the door. He hasn't so much as uttered a single word to her.

Claire, unsure of what to do, simply followed his lead.

They didn't have to go far. Just a few doors down, was the copier room. It was the only room in the entire floor that didn't have security cameras installed; this he was certain of.

Paul slammed the door shut, and locked it.

"Will you just talk to me?"

Paul paid her no mind. He pulled her in by the collar of her blouse, and he devoured her lips. While his mouth was preoccupied, his hands worked its magic, as it made quick work of her buttons. There were a few stubborn ones, but he didn't care, he simply tore them off. His callous hands pushed her bra aside, and his hungry mouth had found itself a new target. Paul suckled against the nipple roughly, hungrily, and wildly. He didn't care. He wasn't in the mood to care. He wasn't here to make love. He was here to fuck. This was, in his own sick, twisted, and perverted sense, a way for him to reclaim his bruised manhood.

"Ow!" Claire screamed. "You're hurting me!"

Paul picked Claire up by the arms, and sat her down on one of the many tables used to sort mail. This particular table had one wobbly leg, but that was the farthest thought from Paul's mind. He dropped his pants, to about knee length. When he was right and ready, he yanked Claire's panties off, and threw them against the wall.

"Jesus Christ! Will you slow down?!"

Paul licked his fingers, and gently probed Claire between her legs. She was dry. She wasn't wet, not in the slightest. But like he said, he couldn't care less about her pleasure nor her comfort. This wasn't about her, or her needs. No. This was about him. He was going to enjoy this. He was going to own up to this, like a real man.

Paul spat in his hand, and moistened the tip of his hard cock. He was fully erect. He could feel his cock pulsate with a life force of its own. His cock was hungry, and ready to feast upon savory flesh.

With one hand to guide his cock, and the other to steady himself, Paul inserted the entire stretch of his manhood inside Claire, in one violent upward thrust. He entered her, with much difficulty, though that did little to slow him down. He pounded down on her, again and again. His hips were alive and wild, grinding against her pelvis with a mind of its own.

At this point, all Claire could do was hold Paul close, and claw at his back every time she felt he was being too rough with her. She wasn't wet. The friction, on such a sensitive area, that was the worst part. But after a while, it wasn't too bad. While Paul vented his frustration out on her, she would close her eyes, moan and groan every so often, but in reality, all she could bring herself to do was think about a destination, a place, maybe a beach somewhere, far and away the Hell from this stink hole.

Paul was close. He could feel the pressure build from his testicles. He just needed that extra nudge, in the right direction. He pulled out unexpectedly.

Claire screamed, yet again, from the somewhat violent pull out.

Paul used his intimidating size to his full advantage, as he continued to handle Claire like a Raggedy Ann doll. He lifted her off the table, and made her kneel.

Claire didn't want to. Every time Paul forced her head down, she would resist the best she could. Short of yelling stop, Claire did her best to hold off. She really didn't like giving blow jobs, especially to someone as rough as Paul.

Paul finally broke his silence. He said, "Do this, or this will all be for nothing."

Even from the floor, in such a compromising position, Claire shot daggers at Paul. With much hesitation, Claire opened her mouth, and sucked his dick.

Paul grabbed a lock of her hair, and practically used it like a harness, to guide Claire's moist lips. He made her deep throat him. There were a few times when he thought she would vomit from her gag reflexes, right then and there. But she didn't.

It didn't take Paul long to finish. Claire's mouth was warm, and moist; so damn moist. When he came, he hunched forward, and stroked his shaft, all the way to the tip, as he squeezed out every last drop. Paul was rough, but he wasn't inconsiderate. He didn't make Claire swallow. No. He simply came on her blouse.

When he was done, Paul simply pulled his pants up, and helped Claire back onto her feet.

"That bag, the one you won't shut up about."

"Yeah?"

"I'll have someone send it to your apartment."

"Oh, thank you!" Claire threw her arms around Paul's neck, and kissed him on the cheeks, repeatedly. "Thank you; thank you; thank you!"

That's all this ever was: a business transaction.

\- o -

Daniel was in his study.

It was rare, but he was at home, and quite literally doing nothing. He liked these lazy Sundays, whenever he had the luxury. He liked to be by himself, with a cup of hot coffee, and just read. Whatever the material may be, be it a book, the news, or even a blog post, as long as it was an interesting read, he would indulge himself.

He was in the midst of an interesting article, put forth by the DYAD Institute about its latest research on clone sequencing, and nucleus cell modification. He had no clue what half the article was about, but the concept was fascinating, nonetheless.

And that's when his phone rang. It wasn't a call. No. It was a push notification. It was an alert to notify him that he had a new file awaiting him, in his cloud storage. Daniel smirked. This storage account was one of a kind, and served one purpose and one purpose only.

Daniel opened a new window, and entered his login information. There on his server, was a single file, like the notification promised. He pulled open the top drawer, and retrieved a USB stick. He went ahead and moved the file. When the transfer was complete, Daniel made sure to delete the file off his cloud storage, so that the only copy in existence would be on his USB.

Daniel renamed the film to reflect today's date. He then opened the media file. There, playing on full screen, was an eight minute clip of Paul, fucking the daylights out of Claire Hatcher. He wasn't lying when he told Paul that the company didn't install any cameras in the copier room. Black Crown Corp. mostly certainly didn't, but he sure as Hell did.

He didn't have a particular purpose in mind when he started recording Paul's indiscretions. And presently, that remained so. But still, leverage on Paul, and perhaps even Sarah, can never be too much of a bad thing.

Daniel restarted the video, from the very beginning. He was going to enjoy this. Paul's past performances have never failed to disappoint. He unzipped his fly, and got to work.

Lazy Sundays were the best.

\- o -

It was customary, a tradition almost, for the Blacks to meet every Sunday evening for dinner together, as a family unit, regardless of schedule. The Black sisters would rotate every month, as to who would do the cooking. It was the start of a new month, and it was Cosima's turn to take the reins.

Every sister was different. Whenever it was Rachel's turn, she would simply order take out from the finest restaurants the City of Toronto had to offer. It wasn't bad. But it didn't exactly have a personal touch one would come to expect from a home cooked meal. Sarah was, by far, the worst cook. She was even worse than Rachel. At the very least, Rachel knew how to cook, she simply didn't fancy it. Sarah couldn't so much as pour milk on cereal, without starting a grease fire. Of the four Black sisters, Alison was the master chef, hands down. She had the Martha Stewart touch, if Martha Stewart didn't go to jail, and was reincarnated into an OCD housewife, minus the kids. Alison would work wonders in the kitchen, unseen by the likes of anybody in this household. Give her a tube of cheese and a crayon, and she would turn that crap into a gourmet serving of lobster mac and cheese. She was that good.

Cosima wasn't talented, not like Alison was, but she was creative. Tonight's feast was bound to leave a lasting impression on the family.

They had a big family, but an even bigger house. The place had 14 bedrooms, 16 washrooms, 10 full baths, a rec room, an exercise room, a theatre, 2 guest houses, and a creepy cool room in the basement that served no purpose at all, except to scare Kira. You could lose yourself in the place, if you didn't know where you were going; it was that big.

They grew up poor. They weren't privileged, or spoiled. Their mother insisted that they lived together, under one roof. And in all honesty, it wasn't bad, once you got used to it. In some ways, it's nice to come home to family and a warm home, as opposed to a cold and lonesome house. That's what this was. This was a home, not simply a house; a difference with a massive distinction.

Cosima wasn't lying earlier when she said Donnie was her favorite brother-in-law. He truly was. He was genuinely nice, easy-going, and definitely funny as Hell. Not only did he do the shopping for her this afternoon, but he was with her in the kitchen, dancing away at the stove-top, giving her the much needed hand.

"Alright. That's the last of them." Donnie turned off the burner. "Best of luck to you. Rachel doesn't exactly seem like the fun, laughing type, you know?"

"How can she not love this?" Cosima gestured at the food. "This is me being creative."

"I can't argue with you there." Donnie agreed.

The table was set. And the feast was ready to be feasted upon.

And like bears on honeycomb, one by one, the Black family made their way from all four corners of the house, and took their seat at the table. And there, placed before them, was an array of dishes and food, all prepped and ready to be consumed.

"What the Hell is this?" Sarah voiced, "I thought we were having dinner?"

"Ladies and gentleman, and Lady Kira."

Kira giggled quietly.

Cosima continued, "Breakfast is now served."

"Seriously?"

"Why not, Ali?" Cosima replied, "Who says breakfast items can't be eaten for dinner. I have everything you'll ever want. I've got French toast, waffles, pancakes, cinnamon rolls, baked beans, crêpes, eggs benedict, hash browns, tater tots, ham and bacon, and sausages. And for my favorite niece…"

"I'm your only niece, Auntie Cosima!"

"Cocoa Puffs!"

Kira clapped, "Yah!"

"You really went the whole nine yards, didn't you?" Sarah stabbed her fork, "You even got blood pudding, eh?"

Cosima snapped her fingers. "Specially prepared, just for you and Rach. You Englishmen, and your incessant need to consume everything gnarly."

Rachel, seated at the head of the table, smiled. She genuinely smiled. Cosima was their youngest sister, but she was also the most thoughtful one. Rachel dug right in, and took in a mouthful of the black pudding. It was grilled to perfection on the outside, and soft and gooey on the inside; it was the perfect consistency. Rachel hasn't had a full English breakfast since Uni; it brought back a sense of nostalgia that made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Rachel helped herself to a second serving of the black pudding, after devouring the first; something Cosima took notice, almost immediately.

"This is delicious, Cos."

Cosima stuck her tongue out, and grinned. It was the seal of approval from her big sister. It made everything seem worth it.

Paul, Daniel, and Donnie weren't picky eaters, not like Rachel and Alison. And before you know, the entire table was tucking into the delicious food. The room was alive with chatter.

And it didn't take long for the entire table to be devoured clean either. The plates were spotless. Paul was the biggest eater of the lot. With him there, there were no leftovers to speak of. His stomach was a bottomless pit.

"That pop tart was perfection." Donnie kissed his fingers. "It was marvelous. How do you do it?"

"Thank you, Donnie. I got the recipe from Rachel Ray. The secret is to eat the pop tart, without the wrapper."

They shared a light laugh between them.

"Actually, now that I have everyone's attention, I have a matter to bring up." Rachel said, as she stood up, "I want a show of hands, as to who will be attending the opening of the Mont Tremblant resort next weekend?"

"Shite." Sarah had completely forgotten about that. "Is that next week?"

"How's that even possible?" Alison asked, "I shot you an email just last week. And I even wrote it down in your calendar for you."

"I have a calendar?" Sarah wasn't joking; she was truly baffled. "Since when?"

"Well?"

"It should be fine. I'll move some things around." Sarah nodded, "Are you good, babe?"

"Yeah. We could drop Kira off at my mom's. We can have a get-away weekend, just the two of us."

Paul pulled Sarah in, and kissed her ever so tenderly on the lips.

"That's so sweet; I nearly vomited in my mouth." Cosima shuttered.

"Donnie and I will be there, Rach. We'll probably be there before any of you. There's a few things we have to work out with the event planner, anyways."

"Alright. And what about you, honey?" Rachel asked. "Will you be able to make it to Mont Tremblant next weekend?"

Daniel shook his head, "No. I'll be in Shanghai next week, for the Emerald City vendor's meeting with our supplier. I won't be back till the 7th."

"I'm sorry you won't be there." Rachel said sincerely. "What about you, Cos?"

Cosima had a spoonful of Trix cereal in her mouth, but that did nothing to deter her enthusiasm. "Hell yeah, I'll be there. I would never say no to a party with an open bar."

A broad smile graced Rachel's lips. She saved the punchline for last; she knew what Cosima's reaction would be. "It's a theme party; a masquerade party, to be exact."

Milk squirted from Cosima's nose, as she choked on her cereal. "Oh, Hell no! A masquerade party? Seriously? What is this, an episode of The Vampire Diaries?"

Alison scoffed, and pointed an accusing finger at Cosima, "I knew it! You do watch it, don't you? You liar."

"You will be there, Cos." Rachel said sternly, "And you'll be on your best behavior, yes?"

"Fine."

"And bring a date, Cos." Sarah suggested, "A bit of arm candy might do your cranky mood some good."

Cosima simply rolled her eyes.

"But not that girl." Alison gestured with her hands, "What's her name? You know, that girl that kept scratching her groin, whenever she thought no one was watching."

"Zooey." Said Rachel.

Alison snapped her finger. "That's it, Zooey!"

Sarah groaned, "I still have nightmares, when I caught that nutter scratching herself, and then smelling those wanky fingers of hers. It was like she was digging for candy, in that gaping rabbit hole of hers."

Kira giggled, "Why's there candy in a rabbit hole?"

Cosima lost her appetite. "That's my cue. I'm gone. If anybody wants me, I'll be in 2006, when masquerade theme was still a thing."

"Who's got the dishes?" Paul pointed out.

"Not it!" Donnie shouted.

"Not it!" Paul, Sarah, and Daniel quickly screamed in unison. Even Rachel got in on the joke.

Alison simply sat there, and grunted. She was surrounded by crazies. "Really?"

\- o -

 **A/N: Reactions?**


	3. Chapter 3: A Blast From The Past

**CH 3: A Blast From The Past**

"Daddy, I don't feel good."

Paul checked Kira's forehead. She wasn't hot to the touch, nor was she running a fever, but she was awfully pale. Her usual rosy cheeks were ghostly white. Kira had complained of fatigue and a headache for a few days now. He thought she had come down with a case of hay fever, but this, this made him worrisome.

"Sarah!"

Sarah walked in, in the midst of putting on her earrings. "What's wrong?"

Paul sat Kira up, and began changing her out of her pajamas. "We've got to take her to the hospital."

Sarah noticed, almost immediately, that Paul was visibly distraught. He cared for Kira and loved her deeply, as any father would their child, but she thought he was overreacting. Of the two, Paul was definitely the helicopter parent.

Sarah checked her watch. It was still early. "I'll take her to Dr. Schultz. I'll call in later, and work from home today. That way, I can be with monkey all day. Make her lunch in bed; how's that sound?"

Kira immediately took comfort in that; she beamed brightly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go. Someone has to supervise the demolition team." Sarah gave Paul a quick peck on the lips. "I've got nothing but paperwork scheduled for today, anyways."

"You'll call me if anything happens, right?"

"Not if you call me first."

Paul bent down, and kissed Kira on the head. "You be good for mommy, okay, monkey?"

"I will."

Sarah picked Kira up, "Let's go, sweetie. We're going to see your favorite doctor today."

\- o -

The main hall was buzzing with life, with too many pairs of busy hands to count, and too many bodies to care. The Mont Tremblant Resort was Black Crown Corp.'s latest investment. The entire resort had been three years in the making, with more than $28 million invested. After all that time, effort, and money, the resort was finally ready to open its doors for business. And right at the front and center of that battle, was none other than Alison Black.

The resort had a total of three conference halls. For the upcoming masquerade party, they had the room dividers taken down, merging all three halls into one gigantic ball room. It was absolute madness, all packed into one convenient location.

Donnie felt like he was a needle in a haystack; not only was he out of place, he was at a lost, and waiting to be rescued. Everybody had a job, and kept busy; while he, on the other hand, found no purpose or source of entertainment, other than to abuse the helium in the balloons. Nobody appreciated his witty puns. Or his amazing rendition of Gloria Gaynor's 'I Will Survive'.

"Baby Jesus, help me." Alison came storming up to stage area.

"What's wrong, honey?" Donnie said, in his helium enriched voice.

"That event planner!" Alison grunted. "Ugh. I have half a mind to strangle that water-buffalo."

"Be nice."

"Can you believe it? I specifically asked that the tablecloths be Venetian red, to match the center piece flowers, but that imbecile gave me Falu red. If you don't know the difference in the different hues of red, you shouldn't have become an event planner!"

Donnie peaked out from behind Alison. The tablecloths were red, and that was it. He had no idea there were other shades of red. But after all these years of being married, Donnie's learned it's best not to poke a beehive, under any circumstances.

"You want to get out of here?" Donnie asked suggestively, "Make the most of this get-away weekend? We are at a five-star resort. And the beds, I heard, are heavenly."

Alison had her hands on her hips, her cheeks slightly flushed. Donnie's suggestion wasn't entirely bad; she could not stand to go another round with that hungry hungry hippo.

"You want to make a French Canadian baby? We can name him François Noël-Rémy Hendrix. How's that for obnoxious?"

"Holy fish sticks!"

"Huh. Who would've thought baby names were such a turn-on for you? Good to know."

"No." Alison brushed Donnie aside. "The amaryllis, for the center piece, they're here already. They're not supposed to arrive until Friday night. They'll all wilt before the guests arrive."

"Alright. We're out of here. Come on, honey, let's go explore the hotel." Donnie had to physically drag Alison out of there. "We'll start in the janitor's closet. That's where a lot of my high school friends got pregnant. Maybe it'll help if you drink, too. The girls got super pregnant from all the booze."

Alison followed Donnie's lead. But as she was led out, she made eye contact with the Wicked Witch of the West; they locked eyes. "You're about as useful as a fart in a jam jar, you are."

"Let's go, honey, keep the craziness for the bedroom."

Alison gestured with her hands, and mouthed "I'm watching you."

\- o -

Shanghai, China.

Daniel slammed back his fifth shot of the evening. It wasn't any cheap store bought brand. No. If there's one thing the Chinese loves, it's their liquor, and they fucking loved Hennessy XO.

This was his third time in the country, but his very first time in the city of Shanghai. The city had a vibrant night life, almost rivaling that of Manhattan's Meatpacking District. The clubs were more or less the same: bright lights, booze, and skinny clad girls. Daniel couldn't care less about the nightlife here. He wasn't here to socialize. He was here for business.

This meeting had taken him six months to arrange. He had to move heaven and Earth, and exhaust every single one of his Asian contacts, just so he could arrange this paramount meeting. This particular guest only takes clientele based on referrals only. If you weren't referred by any one respectable, it's best to safe yourself the trip.

Daniel threw back one last shot; that was his limit, and he had reached it. He needed clarity. He was currently sandwiched between two girls that looked about twenty pounds underweight. They spoke broken English, but were understandable. It was almost midnight, yet his guest had yet to arrive.

Daniel was here to meet the Director of Distributions of Tin Wang Constructions. Tin Wang Constructions was the single largest supplier of building materials in all of Asia, and a top five contender on an international scale. They had connections and wholesale prices that were unseen and unmatched, by the likes of even the big players.

Not only was he made to grovel, he had to practically get down on his knees and suck Rachel's cock, before she granted him the Emerald City budgets account. But in the end, it was all worth it. With Rachel's go-ahead, he was now in charge of the project's G&A, or as it's otherwise known as: overhead. Anything that required money to be withdrawn from the expense account, he had the final say. The Emerald City project had a potential budget of $30 million, with a seed round to be raised fairly soon; its potential was limitless. Daniel was practically salivating, just thinking about it.

"Give your boss a call, and see where he is."

"No need."

Speak of the devil. Daniel got up, and shook his hand. "Daniel Rosen."

"Ethan Wang."

"Please, sit."

Ethan Wang was a small man. Daniel couldn't pinpoint what it was, but he gave him the impression that he was a petty man as well. They sat across from each other. The room was fairly spacious, but even so, Daniel was starting to feel claustrophobic. And hot. The room was incredibly hot. It had to be the alcohol. He needed to close this deal, before he passed out drunk.

"You're an impatient man, Mr. Rosen." Ethan spoke in a fairly neutral accent. "I've yet to accept your offer, yet here you are, in my backyard. You're that confident that I'll accept your proposal?"

Daniel wasn't in the mood to dick around. "You're a businessman. As am I. This project is simply too lucrative for you to pass up. So let's cut to the chase: can we close this deal?"

"No." Ethan Wang said without hesitation, "It's far too complicated. And the risk associated with the project isn't worth the return. You may be a businessman, Mr. Rosen, but like you said, so am I."

"What's your ask?"

"Based on your direct cost estimation, almost $15 million of that will be on supplies and manual labor. My guys ran the numbers. If we close this deal, we'll be able to pocket $3.7 million. And that's just a conservative estimation."

"Walk me through it."

"It's fairly straightforward." Ethan gestured for a drink, to moisten his lips. "We're simply replacing all the brand name supplies with domestic ones. Now let me iterated: we're not cutting corners, by any means. All our building materials meet the safety regulations set forth by the Canadian Federation of Construction Safety. We're not amateurs. It's just a matter of brand names. Why pay a premium price for a brand name, when the store brand is just as good, if not better, might I add."

"Meanwhile, I keep…"

"…billing the company, for said premium price."

"Where are the goods manufactured?"

"In the City of Tianjin. All shipments are shipped, via the Port of Tianjin."

Daniel liked what he was hearing. And it was obvious that this wasn't Ethan Wang's first rodeo. He knew exactly what he was doing. No wonder he was the go-to guy for this line of business. But even so, Daniel wasn't about to oblige and allow the man to steal half his hard earnings.

Daniel asked again, "What's your ask?"

"I want to be fifty-fifty partners."

Daniel sat there, stone-faced; neither spooked nor shaken. "No. I'll go thirty-five, and that's it."

"You insult me, Mr. Rosen." Ethan edged from his seat. "What if word gets back to that lovely wife of yours, that you're planning to steal from right under her nose. I can't imagine that will help with the foreplay in the bedroom."

Daniel's nostrils flared. He had to suppress the compulsive urge to crack his head wide open with a wine bottle. If there's one thing he will not tolerate, it was blackmail.

"Think of this as a trial run. If our collaboration should go off without a hitch, there's bound to be plenty more opportunities for us to collaborate again in the near future. We'll renegotiate my terms then." Ethan reasoned.

Daniel stood up and offered up his hand, "Forty-five percent, and we close now."

Ethan gladly accepted. "Deal. We'll have the shipment prepped and ready for transport by the week's end."

"Great." Daniel had held off the effects of the alcohol long enough. His vision was starting to blur; his legs weak below the knees. "We'll speak soon."

"Not so fast, Mr. Rosen."

Ethan called for the duty manager, and said something in Mandarin Chinese. Daniel had not the foggiest clue what was happening, but after a minute or so, it's apparent. The duty manager returned with two girls in tow. They were pretty, but in a superficial sense, with their heavy makeup and extensions. But there was more. From his blazer, he pulled out a tiny glass vial. With careful hands, he shaped out five white lines of powdery goodness.

"A celebration is in order." Ethan Wang handed Daniel a rolled up yuan bill. "Only the best money can buy. Shipped straight from Guangzhou."

Daniel allowed his inebriation to get the best of him. He accepted.

"Think of it as a thank you gift, Mr. Rosen." Ethan grabbed one of the girl's breasts, and gave it a good old squeeze. "You will not be disappointed."

\- o -

Sarah had practically spent the entire day by Kira's side. She even went so far as to confiscate Kira's work desk, just so she could work without having to leave her side. Kira was currently tucked in bed. It was much earlier than her usual bedtime, but she was tired, and still much too weak to do anything else. But she was looking a lot better than she was this morning. Before Kira was whisked away by the Sandman, she insisted on giving Paul a call. They talked for more than thirty minutes, before fatigue finally consumed Kira's tiny body.

Dr. Timothy Schultz had made an exception, and did a house call this morning. When he realized who was on the other line, and the gravity of the situation, he was more than willing to accommodate. That was one of the perks of being a Black: everybody wanted to kiss your ass.

Dr. Schultz checked Kira's vitals, and her temperature. She wasn't running a fever, which was excellent news, so they could rule out an infection. Dr. Schultz then proceeded to draw five vials of blood for bloodwork and further testing. After an hour, he merely prescribed a week's dose of broad spectrum antibiotic as a precaution, and plenty of bedrest for Kira, until they can determine a cause for her symptoms. But he assured her, Kira was not in any immediate danger. That was this morning. Dusk had long fallen, and night was in full bloom, yet Sarah was still waiting to hear back from Dr. Schultz.

Sarah took ten minutes for a quick shower. She had her phone by the sink the entire time, though it didn't ring. It was five past eight in the evening, and just when Sarah had given up hope on hearing back from Dr. Schultz, the man's caller ID finally popped up on her home screen. Sarah closed Kira's door behind her, and decided to take the call in her office.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Black. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No. Not at all. Have you gotten Kira's lab results yet?"

"I have them right here."

"And?"

"It appears Kira has iron-deficiency anemia. In laymen's terms, it means her body isn't getting enough healthy red blood cells due in part to an iron deficiency."

Sarah suddenly found herself gripping her phone with all her might. "Is it serious, Doctor? Should we take her to a hospital? Get her admitted?"

"There's no need to panic, Ms. Black." Dr. Schultz continued, "It's not life-threatening. It's rare for a child this age to develop anemia, but it's not totally unheard of. Kira will have to adjust her dietary intake, but it's nothing too bothersome. In the worst case scenario, we'll start her on iron-therapy, though I don't think that'll be necessary, not until she reaches puberty and starts menstruating."

"So she'll be fine, is what you're saying?"

"Well, it really depends on what your definition—"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Doctor!"

"Yes! She'll be fine, Ms. Black." Dr. Schultz assured her, "I want you to come in with Kira tomorrow, so we can do a full body checkup. I want to make sure it's not an absorption problem. And I want to rule out any intestinal disorders, as well."

A sense of relief washed over Sarah, "Yeah. Sure, Doctor, sounds good. Is that all?"

"No. There's actually one more thing. When we took Kira's medical history this morning, could there have been a mistake?"

Sarah ran a hand through her damp hair, "Please, don't bumble, Dr. Schultz, I'm too knackered for your word games."

"We did an ABO typing this morning, in case Kira needed a blood transfusion, we wanted to be certain what her blood type was, to minimize the risk of a transfusion reaction."

Sarah was still clueless as to where this was going. "Okay."

"Well, in your medical history, you gave your blood type as being O Positive, and Mr. Dierden as being B Positive. But the ABO typing indicates that Kira is type AB Negative. Not many hospitals have that specific blood type in stock. It's the rarest blood type there is." Dr. Schultz said matter-of-factly. "That's why it jumped out at me."

Sarah sat there with her mouth agape, eyes stunned, and her blood frigid cold. A shockwave circulated in her body, and left her completely paralyzed. The air escaped both her lungs, as her heart skipped a beat; her chest ached heavily. Sarah wanted to vomit; her heart was in her throat.

"Hello? Ms. Black? Are you….Did the fucking call drop again? Jesus!"

"I'm still here." Sarah muttered softly.

"Oh. Sorry about that."

Sarah shook herself from her brain freeze. "No, you're right, Dr. Schultz. I might have mixed up Paul's medical history with someone else's. It's a good thing you caught it."

"Well, it's why I am the best." Dr. Schultz said rather proudly.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Sarah brought both her knees up to her chest, and she cradled herself. She sat there, completely dumbfounded and stupefied. After God knows how long of zoning out, Sarah ran her fingers through her damp hair once more, and simply said, "Fuck."

\- o -

The restaurant was on the fifth floor, but the damn elevator had been stuck on the basement level for the longest time. In the end, Cosima found herself running up five flights of stairs, with her bag in one hand, and her pair of heels in the other. There was no way in bloody Hell she would be able to run in those God forsaken heels. By the time she made it up those laborious stairs, she was thoroughly winded. Cosima had half a mind to take up smoking again, just so she could have an excuse as to why she was so out of shape.

"I'm so sorry."

Shay had an amused look that just about says it all. "Aren't you always?"

"What can I say? I'm kind of always late, so kind of always sorry."

"Relax. Catch your breath." Shay grinned. "You're actually on time, for once in your life."

"Uh. Okay."

"I told you the wrong time. I told you eight o'clock, but the reservation's actually for eight-thirty."

Now it was Cosima's turn to be amused, "I don't know if I find that incredibly endearing, or incredibly insulting."

"It's the first, honey, it's always the first." Shay gave Cosima a kiss on both cheeks, and a hug. "It's been forever."

"I could bitch about what a horrible friend you are, but then again, how can I? You have a halo around your head, and a pair of fucking angel wings. Plus, the kids in Cambodia obviously needed you more than I do."

"It's Nepal, but close enough for you. At least this time, you got the continent right."

Cosima was taken aback, if only just for a second. She truly felt like a dick, for not knowing. "Oh. I'm sorry, Shay, I didn't know. Or I did, and completely forgot about it. But either way, it's pretty douchey of me."

"It's fine." Shay said sincerely, "I can't blame you either. It's my third tour. I'm always here one day, and gone the next. I can't honestly expect you to keep track of where I am all the time."

There were many qualities Cosima admired about Shay, but the one that stands out above all, was her sense of charity. Of the countless people she knew, Shay was, hands down, the single most charitable person there was. Shay managed to put herself through medical school, with nothing but grants, scholarship, and a shitty job at a credit check company. After eight grueling years of med school, and a two year rotation as an emergency physician, Shay could have taken any job she wanted, at any hospital of her choice. The Canadian government had plenty of incentives for physicians to stay in the country, and practice medicine domestically. Or she could very well start her own practice, and roll in the deep in greens. But she doesn't. Shay chose the path less travelled. The moment she was legible, she gave it all up to work for Médecins Sans Frontières. They met four years ago, during a benefit for the 2011 Tōhoku Earthquake; the one that displaced more than a million people in Japan, and caused the Fukushima nuclear meltdowns.

For the rest of the evening, Cosima and Shay shared a meal, plenty of laughter, nostalgia, and amusing stories since they last saw one another. Their unlikely friendship was the pinnacle definition of what it means to be friends: it isn't about being inseparable, but being separated, and nothing's changed.

As the evening winded down, they found themselves enjoying a cup of coffee, and talking about everything yet about nothing. It wasn't until the clock struck ten, did Cosima notice a slight change in the ambiance. Shay kept checking her watch, even though she said earlier that she hadn't made any other plans.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Daydov, am I boring you already?" Cosima said sarcastically. "I thought I had you booked for the evening. What gives?"

Shay was restless, though it wasn't Cosima's fault. "I'm going to tell you something, but promise me, you won't lose your shit when I do."

Cosima didn't like the sound of that. "That's usually the prelude, before I lose my shit."

"I bumped into Kára a few days ago, at a fundraising benefit."

At the mere mention of the name, Cosima's usual go-lucky, happy demeanor immediately darkened. But nonetheless, Shay continued, "You have to understand, Cosima, that when I met you, I also met Kára. Just because you broke up, didn't mean I stopped being her friend. I didn't pick a side."

"What does she want?"

"She said you won't take her calls."

"You're damn right I won't."

"Whatever it is, she just wants a chance to work it out, and make peace." Shay placed her napkin on the table. "I couldn't refuse her, nor I, you, if you asked me to."

Cosima didn't get the hint. "I don't get it. What are you—"

"Hello, Cosima."

The muscle memory in Cosima's body reacted; her shoulders shot up, as her body tensed. She didn't dare turn around, for fear of what may happen if she allowed her emotions to get the best of her.

"Please don't hate me, Cosima." Shay got up from her seat, "I couldn't say no."

"I've never hated you more." Cosima whispered lowly, "I will burn all your clothes, and key your car. I will hunt you down; you mark my word, Daydov."

Shay gave Cosima a peck on the cheek, before she departed.

Cosima was streaming from the blatant betrayal.

Kára Lang had a lock of long blonde hair, dark green eyes, and thick eyebrows that complimented her sharp face. The woman had no makeup on, yet her features were vibrant and every bit as eye-catching. The one piece dress she wore hugged her body tight. Her tall statuesque figure was envied by all, yet not the least bit intimating.

Cosima laid eyes on Kára; a woman whom she hasn't seen in four years.

"Hello, Kára."

"Please, just hear what I have to say, before you go sprinting for the doors."

Cosima leaned back, and crossed her arms in a defensive manner. "I'm listening."

"I've been out of rehab for a year now. I sobered up, and got help." Kára said, neither proudly nor shamefully. "Part of my recovery program says I have to make amends, for the people I've wronged."

Cosima said nothing.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness, Cosima, I know that, but I wanted the chance to tell you, to your face: I'm sorry for everything I put you through."

The apology appeared genuine, though Cosima was still on the fence as to what her reaction should be, given the ambush. In the end, she chose to show compassion. Cosima sighed heavily, and eased her posture. "Look, Kára, I don't blame you for what happened between us. Nor do I hate you for it. I was every bit the enabler, as you were the aggressor. I can't forgive you, because I don't harbor any animosity towards you. I'm indifferent."

"Please, Cosima, I—"

"No." Cosima said sharply. "I respect that you want to make amends, and atone for what you did. You can tell yourself you've accomplished that, if it means you'll sleep easier at night, but this cannot happen again. I've closed that chapter of my life, and you should, too."

"So that's it, huh?"

"I'm glad you're getting your life back together, but please, I don't want anything more to do with you. There's a reason I don't take your calls. We're not friends. We're exes. So let's not do this anymore."

Cosima got up to leave.

Kára pushed her chair back, and grabbed Cosima by the wrist.

The unexpected contact made Cosima flinch; she physically flinched from Kára's touch.

"I'm sorry." Kára pulled back, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You did; more so than you'll ever know. The physical trauma I endured at your hands, pales in comparison to the mental anguish you put me through. I promised myself, that I'll never fall victim to abuse again. You put your hands on me, in a way nobody should. And for that, I will never, ever, feel safe around you."

Cosima left without another word, or a second glance.

Kára didn't chase after Cosima. No. That would only push her further away. She had something else in mind.

\- o -

 **A/N: Satisfactory?**


	4. Chapter 4: Opening Night

**CH 4: Opening Night (The Masquerade Party)**

Everybody was gathered in front of the bar, in a single file formation. They all had their white shirts tucked neatly into their black dress pants, and polished shoes. Some of the men had opted for a bowtie, while others the more traditional necktie.

"Alright, guys. This will be our last rundown. The party is scheduled for seven o'clock. We'll expect our first wave of guests to trickle in around five o'clock. Security will be on site. At no point during the evening, are you allowed to serve security any alcohol; only virgin drinks."

A couple of guys nodded their heads.

"You'll only be serving drink orders. Any food requests must go through the servers, to avoid confusion." Ronnie said seriously, "Be on your best behavior tonight. Don't make me look like a jackass."

The row of twenty servers all gave an acknowledgement.

"If you have any questions or complaints, come to me directly. Or you can grab any one of the floor managers on duty. Are there any questions?"

A guy raised his hand, "Yeah. Do we really have to wear these stupid masks?"

"It's called a masquerade party for a reason. Of course you have to wear the fucking mask."

"But—"

"Are there any non-stupid questions?" It was more of a rhetorical question than anything. "No? Good. Now go get changed, people."

All the servers left and went their separate ways.

He quickly ducked into a nearby washroom.

He turned on the tap, and splashed his face with frigid water. He stood there, and he stared at his reflection in the mirror. This was it. He had gone too far and had lost too much, to call it quits now. He wiped the droplets from his face, and put on his masquerade mask. It was simple, yet memorable. It was fiery red. It was all too fitting.

He straightened his bowtie.

There was no turning back now.

\- o -

Since the jet had taken off, and the seatbelt light turned off, Cosima paced the aisle back and forth, again and again, and again. The Gulfstream V was definitely spacious enough for her to do so, but it was driving everybody else on board absolutely bonkers.

"Good Lord, Cosima, you're giving me a headache."

"I don't like flying, you know that." Cosima did another lap, "This calms me down. I mean, why else would you own a private jet, if you can't do whatever the Hell you want on it?"

"We all know how you feel about flying, Cos, but what can we do? It's a part of our job description."

Cosima plopped down in her seat, but only to grab Rachel by the arm, and snuggle it tight against her body. This was her go-to move, whenever she wanted something from her older sister. It had a ninety percent effectiveness rate. The other ten percent often resulted in a scolding, or worst yet, an ass-kicking.

"Please, Rach? You know I wouldn't be asking you, if it wasn't, like, a life and death situation here. You don't want me to die in your arms, on this very jet, do you? It'll totally bring down the resale value, if you ever want to unload it." Cosima whined childishly.

Rachel simply turned, and took in the current sight of her younger sibling's immaturity.

"Don't do it, Rach." Sarah warned, "You know how she gets. She'll be lethargic for a couple of hours, and when the effect wears off, she'll be wired like the energizer bunny on bath salts, for the rest of the night."

Paul was Switzerland; he kept to himself, and was steering clear of the madness.

"You really are a baby, aren't you?"

Cosima gave Rachel her best puppy dog look. If this was an anime, her eyes would be three times their normal size, and be sparkling, right about now.

Rachel waved the white flag. She reached into her handbag, and popped a single pill into Cosima's grubby hand. It was Xanax.

Cosima was giddy. She really didn't like flying, that wasn't a lie, and the Xanax really did ease her anxiety associated with flying. Cosima popped the pill in her mouth, and dry swallowed it.

Sarah, being the older sister, said, "Really?"

"You're right!" Cosima snapped her fingers, "I need a drink. Maybe a fuzzy navel. Or a rum and diet coke."

"No, Cos! You can't mix alcohol with that!"

And it was off to the races. Cosima was in the lead, with Sarah hot on her trail.

Rachel redirected the conversation to Paul, "I heard about Kira. How's she doing?"

"She's fine. Dr. Schultz said there isn't any cause for concern. We have to tinker with her diet a bit, but as she gets older, her condition should improve."

Rachel was glad to hear it, "Where is she now?"

"She's staying with my folks in Oakville. They're going to spoil her rotten. I already left them our emergency number, just in case."

"If you or Sarah ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask." Rachel meant it, "We're family."

"Thanks, Rach."

Sarah stomped back to her seat; Cosima was nowhere to be found. "Nope. Lost cause."

"Just leave her be. Let her enjoy herself for once."

"Rach's right. Let Cosima go crazy. What's the worst that can happen?"

Sarah didn't even want to think about it; they didn't know Cosima like she did. "Did you hear from him yet?"

Rachel smiled, "Yeah. He touched down this morning. We're the last ones to the party. He should've checked in already, if I'm not mistaken."

"Whose idea was this again?"

"It was his. He wanted to surprise Cosima." Rachel shrugged, "They've always been close."

"That's not all." Sarah added, "He has a surprise in store for all of us. The bugger won't spill a peep, until he sees us."

This certainly piqued Rachel's interest, "Really? You think he got a tattoo, or something?"

"Or maybe a nose ring? Alison would love that."

Paul held his hand up, and interjected, "Wait. Who are you guys talking about?"

The sisters gave each other a look, and said in unison, "It's a secret."

\- o -

The time was winding down. It was almost five o'clock. Everything was set, and ready to go.

Alison had spent the entire week going over the finishing touches for the opening night. And though it wasn't the get-away weekend Donnie had hoped for, it was still nice to reconnect after being married for so many years. If anything, this week definitely reignited a dormant spark between them.

It was one of the many reasons why they decided to try again. They've always wanted kids. And when better to try, if not at a five-star resort on a romantic get-away trip. But there was just one teensy, tiny problem.

Alison's phone was on the nightstand, and set on vibrate. She had a few missed calls. She thought nothing of it, until her phone started vibrating off the hook.

"Will you hurry up?"

"Don't rush me. The more you yell, the harder it is for me." Donnie then added, "No pun intended."

Alison sat on the edge of the bed, with her head propped on her knee.

Donnie had his tux on, with his vest and tie already done. His dress pants, though, were around his ankles. He had his eyes closed, as he stroked himself feverishly. He thought of Taylor Swift, Princess Leia, and even Sharon Stone, in that infamous Basic Instinct scene. Whatever he had deposited in the spank bank, he withdrew it all, for an emergency such as this.

This time, it was their suite phone that rang.

"Cracker sticks! Give me that!" Alison swatted Donnie's hand away, and grabbed his manhood.

"OW! Jesus, Alison!" Donnie screamed, "It's not a whisk. You're not trying to make an omelet. Can you be more gentle?"

"The faster we get this done, the sooner I can get back to the party. I need to be there to welcome the guests, when they sign in."

Donnie sighed, "Such a mood killer."

"This has nothing to do with mood. I'm ovulating. If we don't do this now, we might miss our window. So buckle up, Hendrix, and take one for the team!"

Donnie squirmed in pain, as the friction started to sear his sensitive skin. "You're not helping, Alison. It's like you're trying to stab fire ants with a fork. That's not how you give a proper handjob. That's how you get a carpet burn."

There was a sudden bang at their suite door.

Alison jerked, which in turn caused Donnie to jerk.

"OW!"

"Alison!"

It was Sarah.

"I know you're in there. Don't make me break this door down."

"Coming!" Alison had no choice but to admit defeat. "Fine. We'll try again next month."

Donnie made himself presentable; then he gave Alison a peck on the cheek. "Sorry, honey."

Alison pumped two giant blobs of hand sanitizer on her hands, and was out the door.

Donnie had the room to himself, though he wasn't in the mood. He was certain Alison had given him an Indian sunburn, on his shaft, of all places. He couldn't even enjoy the complimentary pay-per-view porn his room had. Alison had managed to take that away from him, too.

\- o -

The kitchen was in full swing. There were chefs working on the line, yelling out tickets, and bus boys coming in and out the place, with trays upon trays of dirty plates and glasses. He wasn't missed. At least, not yet he wasn't.

Ronnie was all over the place. It was too easy to swipe the master keycard from his blazer. There were security cameras on every floor and at every exit, but again, the party worked to his advantage. This was the resort's opening night. It was a soft opening. Everybody that roamed the premise, besides security personnel, was in a masquerade mask. It was chaotic, and it was perfect.

He had set up shop on the second floor, in room #209. It was the perfect distance from the elevator, and to the emergency stairwell, in case he had to make a quick getaway. All his planning and prep work would be in vain, if his target was MIA. Luckily for him though, she just checked in an hour ago. He gave the room one last sweep. When he was certain everything was in order, he grabbed a bag of white pills, and stuffed them in his pockets.

It was go time.

\- o -

The ballroom looked fantastic. The décor, the music, the lights, the ambiance, it all screamed celebratory.

For this evening, Rachel had opted for a white V neck gown, with a high thigh split. It was simple, yet elegant. To compliment her gown, she chose to don a royal blue masquerade mask. The mask covered only her eyes; it left her other features exposed.

Rachel wandered around the ballroom, and made small talk amongst the guests. But she didn't linger long, nor was her heart into it. Something else occupied her mind. She found her way to the bar, where she waited for her drink order. It wasn't long till she felt a body next to hers, as an arm brushed up against her own. Rachel kept her eyes forward. From her clutch bag, she pulled out a keycard and left it beside her coaster.

"I'm in penthouse twenty-three."

"Ms. Black?" The bartender called out, "Your extra dirty martini."

Rachel grabbed her drink, and left without another word or glance.

\- o -

The masquerade party was in full swing.

There were hundreds of guests in attendance. Almost every single one of the men were wearing a tuxedo, with more or less the same cut and color scheme The women though, they were the ones that went over the top. They were nothing short of extravagant. Everybody's faces were hidden behind a masquerade mask. It was every bit as cliché, as it was exciting. It added a sense of mysteriousness that was intoxicating.

Cosima was left to fend for herself, yet again. Her sisters had ditched her, and were nowhere to be seen. The lethargy she had earlier from the Xanax had worn off, and much like Sarah had predicted, she was now hyped; too wired to sleep, but too tired to mingle. She didn't know half the people here, and the other half were way too pretentious for her to pretend to care.

Cosima made her way around the ballroom, and chatted up with as many people as she could, with a big phony smile plastered across her face. There were celebrities, politicians, Canadian Olympians, local businessmen, anybody of significance or influence, you name it and they were here. Cosima appreciated the open bar — it was the only thing that gave her motivation to stay — but she didn't like this part of the job, the part where she had to be fake. Rachel, Alison, and even Sarah, they were much better at it than she was. But here she was, a member of the Black family, and pulling her own weight.

The music from the speakers pulsated with a heartbeat of its own. Some people took to the dance floor, and were dancing like they were dancing queens, young and sweet, only seventeen. Cosima didn't have the luxury of joining them. Someway, somehow, she found herself sandwiched between a bunch of old farts. They were family friends, and had ties with Black Crown Corp., from its earliest incorporation. And for that reason and that reason alone, Cosima tolerated their presence. If not, she would've thrown her drink in their faces, and stormed out of there. This particular group of old farts were racist, bigoted, misogynistic, and set in their stone-age ways. They didn't belong in the present. In fact, if she could, she would buy them a one way ticket straight to 1560. They seem like they would get along with Mary, Queen of Scot, until she decided to behead them for their insolence. But that's another story, for another time.

"What's the difference between a woman's argument, and a knife?"

Everybody waited for the punchline.

"A knife has a point!"

Everybody burst out laughing, everyone except Cosima, that is.

"You've had a bit too much to drink, Uncle Harold."

"Nonsense." Harold waved, "I only want the best for you; it's what your father would've wanted."

Cosima rolled her eyes, as she took a sip of wine, to hide the fact. She absolutely hated it, whenever he brought up her father, or played the dad-card.

"A woman's place should be at home. You're not getting any younger, Cosima. It's true. There are plenty of fishes out there, but even so, you have to make it ashore, before you drown. Otherwise, what good are the fishes to you, then?"

"Thanks, Uncle Harold, but I'm still looking for the one."

"Psh. There's no such thing. And don't get hung up on the concept of love either." Harold said dryly, "People fall in love. But people fall out of love, too. If I wasn't so worried about the old hag taking half my money, I would've divorced your Aunt Mabel ages ago."

Cosima didn't know if she should laugh at his brutal honesty, or be appalled by his heartlessness. Either way, that was her cue to exit. "Excuse me."

"It's what Walter would've wanted for you, Cosima!"

Cosima couldn't breathe. The people here tonight, at this stupid party, were all faker than press-on nails. She had no business being here. Cosima found her way to the spacious garden outback. She kicked off her heels, and stepped onto the soft, lush grass in her bare feet. The blades of grass tickled her toes.

Cosima kept walking, wherever the garden took her. And that's when from afar, Cosima saw something that caught her eye. At first glance, she thought it was a firefly, dancing beautifully beneath a maple tree. But upon a closer look, she realized it was the smolder of a cigarette. It was a woman. She must have come from the same party. Her long evening gown flowed past her long, toned legs; her slender fingers hidden beneath a silk gown glove; her blonde hair tied into a fashionable bun; her delicate face was shielded with a golden masquerade mask.

Maybe it was the buzz from the alcohol, or the ambiance of the wild party, but Cosima's guard was down; her inhibitions were out the window.

"Can I bum a smoke from you?"

The woman turned around, smiled, and said, "Of course."

Cosima shielded the cigarette, as the woman gave her a light. She gave up smoking in her early teens, but the sensation was most welcomed. Cosima took a nice, long drag of the dirty habit.

"You hiding from someone?"

"Not so much hiding, as trying to catch a breather." Cosima replied, "You?"

"Same. I don't like these functions. I always feel like an outsider."

"Tell me about it." Cosima took another slow drag, "I just spent the past thirty minutes getting a lecture on why I'm not married, and bearing fruit from my loins."

"Never-married women's social environments are characterized by pressure to conform to conventional life pathways." The blonde woman tilted her head at Cosima, "Especially women of high power or status."

Not only was Cosima amused, she was deeply intrigued. "Wow. So you're an anthropologist?"

"No. Not even close."

"So what makes you think I'm a woman of high power or status?"

"And if I'm right?"

Cosima teased, "Only when you're right."

"You walk with a slight limp on your left side. It could be a patellar dislocation, or a torn ACL, it's difficult to tell. Given that health care in Canada is free, that doesn't tell me anything. But your stance and your subtle limp combined, tells me that you had extensive orthopedic therapy, and perhaps even motor skills therapy and that in turn, aided your recovery and the retention of full functionality of your limb. The latter two therapies tell me: you either have money, or come from money."

Cosima was too stunned for words.

"You have horrible posture. You tend to round your shoulders, which indicates to me that you sit in an office for your line of work. You have defined calf muscles, and that tells me you're in heels, as well. Evidence from the two suggest a high level management position, of sorts. But that would only be me guessing. But there is another dead giveaway though."

The mystery women lifted her right hand up. There, on her petite wrist, was a green wristband. "The guests at this party are invites only. But even so, we had to undergo extensive searches for security purposes. Even coat-check was mandatory. But you," She lifted Cosima's hands up, "You don't have a wristband, anywhere to be seen. You said you were mingling with the guests, which tells me you're not a party-crasher. Your absence of a wristband, and lack of security scrutiny indicates to me that you're a VIP member, or a woman known to management. But either way, you're different, special."

"Strange. That's what I was about to say about you." Cosima's mind was just blown. "Are you a detective? Cause that was remarkable, what you just did there."

"It's a trick of the trade." The blonde woman stubbed out her cigarette. "My last job required complete attentiveness. I had to look for subtle clues. Often times, it was a matter of life and death."

"Your last job?"

The woman shook her head. "Long story."

Cosima understood completely. She held out her hand, "I'm Cosima."

"Delphine."

"Enchanté."

A delighted smirk graced Delphine's lips, "I'm pretty sure that's my line."

"How could I miss that subtle French undertone? You French?"

"I'm French-Canadian. I grew up just outside Montréal."

Cosima couldn't pry her eyes away from the beauty that stood before her. There was something oddly alluring about her.

"Please, excuse me." Delphine said, "I must get back to the party now. Nice meeting you, Cosima."

Cosima could only reply with, "You, too."

Cosima watched as Delphine crossed the garden, until she disappeared beyond the slope. She was still bemused by the entire exchange. She's never met anyone quite like her. Delphine was different, and uniquely so. And her complex thought process, it was nothing short of extraordinary. Cosima snubbed her cigarette, and headed back to the party, too. She needed to ask Delphine for her number. She might decline her, and reject her advances, but she had to try; she just had to.

Cosima slipped her pair of heels back on, and headed in. There were a sea of people, more so than before, but Delphine's golden masquerade was nowhere to be seen. Cosima made her way through the crowd, ever so slowly.

"Excuse me, Ms. Black?"

Cosima turned at her name. It was one of the wait staff, in his uniform and red masquerade mask.

"This drink was specially made, just for you."

"I didn't order anything." Cosima brushed the waiter aside.

"Please, Ms. Black." The man pleaded, "It's from Ronnie. It's a specialty drink."

Cosima had the displeasure of meeting Ronnie already, upon their check-in. Without a second thought, Cosima grabbed the crystal glass, and downed the drink in one smooth gulp. She slammed the glass down on his tray. "Happy?"

"Very, Ms. Black."

And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd.

The general manager: Ronnie Sommer. And that's when Cosima had a eureka moment. Like Delphine said, all the guests were invites only. When they checked in, and assigned a wristband, they had to sign the guest book. Cosima had Delphine's first name. Surely she could cheat, and see what her last name was, and maybe even get a contact number.

Just as Cosima was about to head towards the main lobby, a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, and pulled her in towards their direction. Cosima didn't have time to register or react; she was taken by complete surprise. And that's when her ambusher spun her around. He wore the same black and white tux as every other guy in the room. His face was hidden behind a masquerade mask.

"Who the fuck are you, buddy?!"

"Really, Cos?"

Cosima was rooted to the spot, as the voice registered in her inebriated mind. And when it did, her eyes widened in disbelief, "Holy flying monkey!"

"Yep!"

"Felix?!"

"The one and only."

Cosima flew into Felix's embrace, and hugged him for dear life. "Oh, I was so worried about you, you dipshit! You hardly ever call!"

"Well, that's one of the beauties of backpacking: no pesky technology."

"Oh! I missed you, so, so much!" Cosima grabbed his face, and kissed every inch of visible skin, "I'll never let go!"

"Stop it, Cos, people are starting to stare."

"Who the flying fuck cares, now that you're here."

"Come. There's someone I want you to meet."

From across the room, came a familiar figure Cosima immediately recognized.

"There you are." Felix presented his guest proudly, "Delphine, I want you to meet my sister, Cosima."

"Hello again."

"Wait. You've met already?"

"Yes. Though I didn't know she was your sister."

"Well, then, this should be easy." Felix snaked his arm around Delphine, "Cosima, I want you to meet Delphine, my new wife."

"Your what?!"

\- o -

 **A/N: Thoughts?**


	5. Chapter 5: And The Night Worsens

**CH 5: The Masquerade Party (And The Night Worsens)**

"Your what?!"

"My wife, Cos. We met in Thailand." Felix shrugged his shoulders, "What can I say? It was love at first sight."

Delphine smiled weakly.

Cosima swayed on the spot. Her mouth was arid, to the point where it tasted bitter. And she was hot. She was so hot. It's as if the thermostat had suddenly been cranked up. And her vision. Cosima shook her head lightly, to rid the blurriness from her eyes.

"I don't…" Cosima slurred. "I…"

Cosima lost her balance, and in turn, her footing.

Delphine caught the petite woman in her arms, and held her steady. "Are you okay?"

"What's wrong, Cos?"

"I…I'm, uh, just a bit queasy. I need to use the washroom. Excuse me."

Delphine kept her arms around Cosima. "I'll go with you."

Cosima still had the mindset to say, "We're not done here, Fee."

Delphine had to practically carry Cosima; it was like teaching a child to walk again. Security personnel directed them to a VIP area, and with it, a secluded bathroom. Delphine had a feeling it was because they recognized Cosima, and the fact that she was a Black. If she had been by herself, they wouldn't have given a rat's ass about her.

With her mask and glasses off, Cosima proceeded to rinse her face with ice cold water. She needed the shock. Then she took a mouthful of water, to quench her seemingly unquenchable thirst. Something was wrong. She wasn't feeling herself. She felt like she was having an out of body experience. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't focus or concentrate. She felt drained, but she wasn't tired; her mind was spinning a mile a minute, but her body wanted to shut down.

"Are you feeling better?"

Cosima turned off the tap. She leaned against the counter, and stared at the reflection that was Delphine. Her eyes were fixated on the mirror, and with it, the reflection within.

Delphine noticed Cosima's intense gaze on her. It was impossible to miss. But she said nothing.

Cosima turned to face Delphine. Without her glasses, she struggled to see the woman before her. She closed the distance between their bodies.

With her back to the wall, Delphine couldn't move. She wasn't the least bit intimated. Cosima's movement was slow, gentle almost. She meant her no harm.

"What are you doing, Cosima?"

"I want to see your face."

From the first moment Cosima laid eyes on Delphine, the mask had always been a barrier that stood in her way. She wanted to see Delphine, the real Delphine, not the masquerade she had built around herself. Cosima gently lifted Delphine's golden mask off. And there she was, in all her imperfect perfection. Cosima had never seen a woman as ethereally breathtaking as the creature that stood before her now. Her heart quickened.

Cosima was standing dangerously close. Delphine could feel Cosima's warm breath on her lips. But that wasn't what caught her attention. Delphine found herself drawn to Cosima's hazel eyes, but not for those reasons. She hadn't noticed it before, on account of the lack of lighting, the mask, and her glasses, but from such a close proximity, it was undeniable. Cosima's pupils were noticeably dilated.

"Cosima?" Delphine wrapped her arm around the woman, again. "Did you take anything tonight?"

"Tell me it isn't true." Cosima answered, "Tell me you didn't marry Felix."

Delphine didn't have time to mess around. Not when it came to something as serious as overdosing. And that's when she realized she left her clutch with Felix. It had both her cellphone and car keys. It would be next to possible to find Felix again, in the sea of human bodies.

"What room are you staying at?" Delphine picked Cosima up, and walked her out to the lobby. "We'll get you settled. And if need be, I'm calling you an ambulance."

"My room is on the fourteenth floor. It has a giant picture window. And paintings of unicorns on the walls."

Delphine rummaged through Cosima's bag, and found a keycard for room #1418. Her first reaction was to call an ambulance, but on second thought, she wanted to get Cosima to her room first. If she searched her room, and found whatever narcotic she ingested, then maybe, maybe she could keep this hush-hush, and in turn, spare Cosima the trouble.

The elevator arrived, and the doors parted. Inside was an elevator operator, with a uniform and a red masquerade mask.

"The fourteenth floor, please."

"Certainly."

The doors closed.

Delphine kept Cosima on her two feet the best she could, but it was proving difficult to do.

The elevator dinged. And the doors came undone. It was fast; too fast. The panel light indicated the second floor.

"I said the fourteenth floor."

"I know."

And that's when Delphine felt something foreign jab itself into her rib. It was quite obvious what it was. But even so, Delphine couldn't help but look. It was a 9mm pistol of some sort.

"Move it. Now."

"Are we...there?" Cosima slurred, "...come to my room. I'll show you my unicorn."

"Not now, Cosima. Not now."

\- o -

When Rachel said the resort was one of a kind, she wasn't kidding. The place was twice the size of its next competing rival. Donnie had left Alison with Sarah and Paul, and decided to have some alone time. He didn't like the socializing aspect of the party, or the ass-kissing part. And on that front, he and Cosima had something in common. He knew for a fact that she, too, despised these kinds of events. But unfortunately, she didn't pick up any of his calls; they all went straight to voicemail. He didn't have any luck bumping into her on the dance floor either. So once again, he found himself alone with his thoughts.

After a few turns and a flight of stairs, Donnie found himself at the entrance of the in-house casino. Donnie had no idea the place existed. Alison made no mention of it either. The place was huge, and had quite a few visitors already. There were plenty of slot machines near the back. And near the front, were more than a few floor tables. They had almost every game imaginable: black jack, craps, roulette, and they even had baccarat!

Donnie found himself drawn to the empty baccarat table. He's never been much of a gambler, but he's seen the game played by none other than James Bond, in the 1967 Casino Royale film. He remembered watching it as a kid, back when James Bond was played by David Niven; way before Daniel Craig's time.

"Fancy a game, Sir?"

"You talking to me?"

"Try your luck."

Donnie shook his head, "Sadly, there's no such thing as luck. In the game of baccarat, it's simply a matter of statistical probability and wild card variant."

"Like I said, try your luck."

Donnie thought about it for a second. He knew how to play. And he's always fancied the game; he just never actively sought out an opportunity to play. "How many decks do you use?"

"Our game is Punto Banco. We use six decks."

Donnie emptied his wallet. He had around $300. He handed the dealer his money, and took a seat.

"Alright. Let's try my so called 'luck', shall we?"

\- o -

The party was finally winding down. People were starting to thin out. The entire masquerade party, from start to finish, had drained everything Alison had. By the time she finally called it a night, Sarah and Paul had to practically carry her to her room. Well, that and the dozen drinks she had; half of those were Jell-O shots.

Even though Alison was the older one, and she definitely acted that way, too, but every now and then, Sarah treasured the chance to reciprocate the favor. Sarah made sure Ali was out of those killer heels; and in her comfy pajamas, and tucked comfortably under the duvet, before she closed the door behind her. Sarah and Alison were on the same floor, as opposed to the others, where they were scattered throughout.

The first thing Sarah did was kick off her own pair of heels; she felt liberated. Sarah found Paul by the nightstand, his gaze locked on his phone.

"What's wrong, babe?"

Paul fidgeted for a moment, before he said, "Do you think it's too late to give Kira a call?"

"It's twelve-forty three in the morning, Paul, of course it's too late to call." Sarah said, as she continued her mission to disrobe. "Besides, if there was an emergency, Rose would've called. We left her our number."

Paul simply nodded. It made sense. He turned off his phone. Paul then followed Sarah's trail of destruction; he picked up everything in his path.

Sarah's heart dropped, when she saw what Paul was doing. He was a loving father, and a dotting husband; she didn't deserve him. And that sense of burden and guilt had been eating away at her, little by little, ever since Dr. Schultz dropped that bombshell on her.

Paul dumped all the dirty clothes in the hamper, and placed the set of heels by the closet door.

"Will you, please, stop being so responsible, for once in your life?!" Sarah didn't mean to shout, and she most certainly didn't mean to direct her anger at Paul. If fact, that anger was misdirected; she was angry with herself. The more Paul cared, the more she hated herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Paul wasn't the best reader when it came to emotions, but he could tell something was bothering her. "What's the matter with you? You've been antsy this entire trip. First it was Kira, then Cosima, and now this. Talk to me."

Sarah wanted to tell Paul the truth, right then and there, but she was a coward; she couldn't find the courage to break his heart, and perhaps more importantly, their marriage. So she lied. "I'm still upset about Kira, is all. I don't know what I'll do if something happens to her."

Paul pulled Sarah into a tight embrace, and kissed her. "I know, babe, but there's nothing we can do. Dr. Schultz says it's nothing to worry about. So you shouldn't either. Okay?"

"Okay."

Paul threw his blazer down, and began to undress. "I was actually talking to Rachel about Kira earlier this morning. She says it's strange. Anemia doesn't run in your side of the family. Not in mine either. I wonder where she got it from."

Sarah wasn't in the right mindset to think on her feet. She did the only thing she could do at that moment. She pulled Paul in for a hard kiss. The kiss was rough. But the moment Paul's lips livened, the kiss grew softer, much gentler. Sarah found herself humming into Paul's mouth, as his callous hands circled her waist.

The passion between their bodies intensified. Paul pulled away, but only just for a moment. He wanted to undo his pants, but Sarah caught his hands and stopped him.

"Don't. You look dashing in a suit; don't let it go to waste. I want you to keep it on," Sarah grabbed a lock of Paul's hair, and whispered quietly, "When you're fucking me raw."

Sarah shoved Paul onto his back. His bowtie was undone, and his blazer was off, but the rest of his tuxedo remained intact. Sarah climbed on top, and grabbed his cock. It was hard. Sarah took in a sharp breath of Paul's cologne, and said, "Take it out."

Paul was eager to comply. He undid his fly, and with a tug, he exposed himself. It didn't take much to get him riled up. It's been weeks since they were last intimate. And quite honestly, he hasn't been in the mood lately, given everything that's on his plate.

Sarah marvel at the sight. The look of lust he had written on his chiseled face sent a jolt of shiver down her spine. She was in her night gown; she wasn't wearing any panties. She straddled Paul at the hips, lifted the hem of her gown, and proceeded to sit down on him, in an excruciatingly slow manner. Sarah paused at different intervals. Every time she felt Paul enter her, bit by bit, she would pause, linger, and would continue the naughty ministration. Sarah did this until Paul's rock hard cock filled her completely.

Paul sat up, and into an easier penetrating position. He buried his face in Sarah's breast, as his lips roamed the sensitive land.

Sarah's hips moved with a mind of its own. She grabbed Paul's head, and she buried it in her chest. She didn't want him to see her cry. She cried. Because all she could do, was cry.

\- o -

Delphine kept Cosima closed. By this point, she was already out of it. They were being led down a hallway. The gunman was behind them. Delphine no longer felt the barrel of the gun pressed against her, though she was far from being safe. If this was a one-on-one hostage situation, Delphine was confident she would be able to handle herself — she's seen and been in worse situations — but she wasn't alone, that's the problem.

Delphine had no idea where they were being led. It could be into any one of the many rooms on this floor. It was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made. If they complied and did as he said, the moment that door closed behind them, there's no way they'll live to see another day. Delphine knew that for a fact. But if she fought back, there might be a chance one, or both, of them surviving. But it was going to be difficult to do, given Cosima's current disposition.

"You only have yourself to blame, lady. I only wanted that arrogant cunt. But you had to stick your nose where it didn't belong."

He wanted Cosima, not her. And that gave her an idea. Delphine brought her lips to Cosima's ear, and hoped for the best. "This is going to hurt. So get ready."

Cosima couldn't move her body, much less reply. The sensation resembled locked-in syndrome; it was every bit as frustrating as it was frightening.

With unadulterated force, Delphine shoved Cosima to the other side of the hallway. The force of the blow knocked Cosima against the wall. She went down with a solid thud.

At the sudden movement, the madman trained his gun at Cosima.

He had one gun, but two bodies. And unfortunately for him, he chose to guard the wrong body.

Delphine charged at him with such speed and agility, the gunman failed to react, nor did he know how to react. He still had his gun, stupidly, pointed at an incapacitated Cosima. The moment the gunman was within striking distance, Delphine rained down on him with everything she had. This was, literally, a life and death battle, and she had no intention of losing.

Delphine delivered a closed palm strike to his windpipe. She followed through with a chaser, only it wasn't juice that was being served. She kept her right arm straight and delivered a back fist blow, aimed with precision at his temple, for maximum effect.

The gunman went down hard, but even so, he kept his fingers latched onto the pistol for dear life.

Delphine grabbed his hand, and placed it in a wristlock. It wasn't hard to do, not when your target was on the floor, and flat on his back. The pistol hit the floor with a hard thump. Delphine kicked the gun down the hallway, and out of reach. The moment she did so, she essentially defanged him; he wasn't an immediate threat. But she wasn't done with him. Not by a long shot.

The perp was on his hands and knees, dazed and winded. Delphine closed the gap, and without hesitation, she kneed him in the face with a hard right. The shot was delivered point blank; Delphine delivered maximum pain and damage.

Cosima couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Holy watershed, Batman."

Though the immediate threat had been eliminated, they were still in danger. With a bit of quick thinking, Delphine ran to the nearest fire alarm, and she pulled down on it. The moment she did, the sprinkler system activated, and the entire hallway was doused in water.

"Watch out!"

Delphine turned around, but it was too late. She held her arms out, and prayed for the best.

The madman came rushing at Delphine with a switchblade. The sharp blade pierced the delicate skin with ease. Delphine fumbled backwards. He came at her again, only this time, Delphine was ready, and she evaded the best she could, by sidestepping the blade.

"HEY! YOU!" Security shouted, "Arrêter!"

The madman froze in midstride. He gave the girls one last fleeting look, and decided to bolt the other way. He sprinted down corridor, and ducked into a nearby stairwell.

Three security personnel gave chase, while one stayed behind.

"Are you okay, Ms. Black?"

Delphine was by Cosima's side. "Get her up. We need to get her to a hospital. She needs immediate medical attention."

Something caught Cosima's eye. Without thinking, Cosima poked at something red.

Delphine hissed painfully. Cosima practically jabbed her entire index finger in her gaping knife wound.

"You're bleeding, Delphine." Cosima rolled her head back, and snorted a giggle, "Angels don't bleed."

\- o -

Penthouse twenty-three was the single largest suite the resort had to offer. And inside this luxury suite, was a raging party of its own. Only unlike the masquerade party, this party was exclusive to only a select few.

There were two types of people at this party: venture capitalists, and high-priced call girls. You either belonged in one category, or the other; there were no shades of grey. It was an open style buffet, though it wasn't food or drinks that was being served. The highlight of tonight's cuisine was cocaine. And there were lots of it. There were tiny mounts of the white powdery goodness, at every twist and turn.

The mastermind behind the party was none other than Kára Lang. This was her doing. And though she was the orchestrator behind the thrill, she refrained from indulging in the party treats, be it the sin of flesh or the powdery bliss. She was sober, and she had no intention of going through that period of Hell on Earth, ever again.

A couple of the guys were getting their dicks sucked on the balcony. In the den, Dennis Copeland, the CFO of the Copeland Group, was getting his ass handed to him by one of the girls with a strap-on dildo. It was quite obvious, given their indiscretion, that Dennis Copeland wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow. But Copeland couldn't care less. Based on his blank expression, he was coked out of his mind.

Kára closed the sliding doors, and kept the madness contained to only that side of the suite.

"I honestly didn't expect you to come through tonight."

Rachel was ever the relaxed figure, with a glass of wine and toned legs crossed. She was unaffected by the rowdiness of the boys.

"I have my reasons."

"And is that reason Cosima?"

Kára's face said it all.

"After what you did to her, I ought to knock your teeth out." Rachel couldn't hide the contempt she harbored for this woman, nor did she attempt to. Every fiber in her being wanted to hurt this woman, for hurting her baby sister. "So, please, don't tempt me. I might just give in to that impulse."

Kára leaned forward, unafraid to poke the bear. "If you hate me so much, why did you accept my invite?"

"Don't get me wrong. I wish every morsel in your wretch being was set alight. But your proposal was simply too lucrative to pass up. My contempt for you is a personal matter. I am capable of separating my personal life, with my professional life."

That was a typical Rachel response. And it's exactly why Kára chose to broach Rachel with the business proposal. Not only was Rachel Black the CEO of Black Crown Corp., she was also the most pragmatic one of the lot. Both Alison and Sarah were far too emotional. At the mere sight of her, they just might deck her.

"Now that you've raised a seed round for Emerald City, I think I've proven my worth." Kára got straight to the point. "I'm not looking for a handout. All I'm asking for is an opportunity to prove my invaluable worth to the company."

Rachel set aside her glass, and stony said, "No. You can invest in the Emerald City project, but that's as far as you go. We were going to do an open round, but this is just as well. Black Crown Corp. is not for sell, and neither is Cosima. Don't think you'll get back into her good books by going behind her back, and backing her into a corner on a professional front. I may be a businesswoman, but I am also a sister. Am I making myself clear?"

"Very."

"Good." Rachel stood up, and smoothed out her dress. "I have no intention of taking Black Crown Corp. public. I will never allow greedy opportunists, like yourself, the chance to take majority control of the company. The Emerald City project will be the extent of your reach."

"And here I thought it's because the SEC hated your fucking guts."

Rachel's eyes darkened at the below the belt jab.

"We've all heard the rumors, Rachel, so please, don't act surprised." Kára leaned back causally, "Everybody within the industry knows just how much the Chairman of the SEC hates you. I'm not privy to the specifics, but I'm all ears, if you're in a sharing mood."

"Hmph."

"That's the reason why Black Crown Corp. is private. And it's why you needed me, to raise this closed seed round for you." Kára's mood had soured, "Don't belittle my effort. And I won't go for your Achilles heels."

The fire alarm went off. The sirens were loud.

"What's that?"

"It's the fire alarm."

"Fuck me."

\- o -

Delphine was in the back of a squad car. The paramedics had wrapped her arm under a heavy layer of gauze, but she needed medical attention. Cosima was in stable condition when the ambulance departed. She was currently awaiting another ambulance for transport. The gash was deep. She was looking at twenty stitches; maybe fifteen, if the guy was good.

"Would someone, please, tell me what's going on here?!"

Delphine didn't recognize any of them; based on their physical likeness though, they were most likely Cosima's sisters. Delphine approached them, slowly. "I pulled the fire alarm."

Alison said, "You did? Was there a fire?"

"No. There was no fire. But there was a guy, and he had a gun. And he ambushed Cosima and I."

Alison gasped, "What, the what?"

Donnie thought he misheard, "Ambush?"

"Why was there a gun?" Paul asked.

"Wait a minute." Sarah interjected, "Who the Hell are you?"

"My name's Delphine. I was with Cosima when the gunman tried to grab us."

Rachel soon joined the group. "What's going on?"

"Police sealed off the property." Donnie said, "And security ushered us here. But they wouldn't tell us anything."

Delphine continued, "I can explain. I was with—"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" The madman shouted, "YOU'RE ALL DEAD! YOU HEAR ME?!"

It took five police officers to restrain the man, and drag him across the lawn.

Sarah immediately recognized the nut bag. "Isn't that Carl de Boer?!"

Alison's tired eyes widened, "The guy whose marriage we broke up? Charlene Trenbeth's ex-husband? The one whose life we ruined? Yeah. Rings a bell."

Rachel remained silent. She knew this would come back to bite her in the ass. And that's when she realized Cosima was noticeably missing. Rachel panicked. "Where's Cosima?! Is she alright?!"

"She's fine." Delphine replied, "The ambulance transported her to the Wilfred Laurier Hospital. We can meet her there. The ambulance wouldn't allow any ride along."

"Who are you again?" Sarah asked again.

"I'm—"

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Felix pulled Delphine into a tight embrace. "You had me scared shitless! Don't do that again, yeah?"

"Um…Felix?"

"Yeah, Fee." Sarah said, "Want to introduce us?"

Felix had completely overlooked their presence. His family was all there; all his sisters and brothers-in-law were present, minus Daniel. Besides Cosima, he has yet to break the joyous news to his family. No time like the present, right?

"Guys, this is Delphine, my new wife."

"Your what?!"

\- o -

 **A/N: Insert input.**


	6. Chapter 6: I Hate My Family

**CH 6: I Hate My Family**

The room was a mixture of too many things to comprehend; it hummed, it reeked, it spun, and it was certainly noisy. At one point, Cosima heard her family, every single one of them, but she couldn't respond; not matter how hard she tried. Soon thereafter, she simply gave up. Cosima drifted in and out of consciousness; she did her best to keep track of time, but that was a damn near impossible feat without the ability to see, speak, and a watch would've helped, too. After an insufferable and long drawn out silence, she heard rustling, again. It was most likely a nurse, so she thought nothing of it, but then, she heard a familiar voice, one that invigorated her senses.

"You're not supposed to be out of bed."

"I'm fine. I'll only stay for a few minutes. Please."

"Fine."

The door clicked. It was followed by gentle steps.

It's the first time since this spell was casted, that Cosima felt an intense urge to break the spell bound to her body. It was a primal need, one she couldn't explain, yet fought valiantly against. She forced herself to open her eyes. She blinked several times to rid the blurriness from her otherwise untainted vision.

"Cosima?"

"Hey, you."

Cosima didn't recognize her own voice. It was deeper, and much raspier than her usual tone. She tried her best to sit up, but as far as her body was concerned, it was perfectly comfortable where it was.

Delphine propped Cosima up on several pillows. She adjusted the bed setting for her. The motor rumbled with life, until Cosima was finally upright.

"Can I have some water, please?"

"Of course."

Cosima watched as Delphine circled around the room, to pour her that precious glass of liquid gold. Even without her glasses, Cosima saw the difficulty Delphine was having with the task. She had to do everything single handedly. Her right arm was heavily bandaged.

When Delphine returned to her bedside, the water wasn't the first thing Cosima grabbed for. "What happened to your arm?! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Really." Delphine handed her the glass, "It's only a few stitches. But the doctors wanted to keep me overnight, pending the results on an X-Ray."

The memory was a bit choppy, but enough for her to recall. And that's when a bolt of guilt struck her. "I can't tell you how sorry I am, Delphine. None of this would've happened if it wasn't for me."

Delphine placed a gentle hand on Cosima's lap. "None of this is your fault, and you know that. And if you think about it, it's one Hell of a welcome party to welcome me into the family. It's definitely a night I won't be forgetting any time soon."

Cosima flinched, ever so slightly, at the brute realization of what those words meant. "Yes. Felix. Right."

"Look, Cosima, I'll be honest with you." Delphine averted her eyes, and stared nervously at her hands. "This is new for me, too. You're the first friend I've made since this whirlwind with Fee. And I actually like you, which isn't something that comes easy for me. It would mean the absolute world to me, if I had your blessing."

This was worse than getting friend-zoned. This was way worse. She just got sister-zoned. Cosima genuinely meant it when she said, "I'm glad Felix found someone."

Delphine smiled, and said, "Trust me. I'll glad I found him, too."

\- o -

It was needlessly to say that the masquerade party was definitely memorable, not just for the staff, but for all the guests in attendance as well. How could it not be? The entire hotel had to be evacuated, because a crazed gunman was on the loose, all in an elaborate, yet equally foolish, attempt to kidnap Cosima Niehaus Black. You can't make this shit up.

The entire Black family caught the next available flight from Mont Tremblant back to Toronto. Nobody wanted to leave, not without Cosima, but it was a necessity. They, collectively, cleared their schedule for two days, and two days only. They had far too much on their plate to extend their leave of absence. So with no foreseeable options, they had to leave Cosima behind. Luckily, Cosima was in stable condition. If fact, she was set to be discharged this morning. She was scheduled to join them later this afternoon. Rachel had called an emergency board meeting, and attendance was mandatory, even for Cosima.

In all the years Daniel and Paul had been at Black Crown Corp., this had only happened one time prior. They didn't know what to expect. It didn't take a genius to figure out that an ominous shit-storm was fast approaching, and they were in its warpath.

But the whirlwind of surprises doesn't end there.

Paul had been out of town for two days. In those forty-eight hours, Claire had blown up his phone; he had a total of forty-one missed calls from her. His voicemail didn't fare any better. It was filled to its maximum holding capacity. This was a first. Claire understood the arrangement. It was casual sex, and that was it. Clair understood the rules, and abided by them for three years. And in those three years, never once, has she ever initiated contact. That was a big no-no. First rule of fight club: you do not talk about fight club. Well, the same could be said here.

Paul didn't have the time or energy to deal with Claire. She was the furthest thought on his mind right now. He was currently on site, doing a final walkthrough with Daniel.

"I'm telling you, you should have been here. Eight seconds." Paul snapped his finger, "And just like that, all five properties, gone."

"I'm pleased. Everything looks good."

"It better be, given the hours we've put in. How was Shanghai?"

The best lies are the ones interlaced with truths. "It was a bit boring, but overall, no complaints."

"You're a lucky guy, you know that? You get to travel the world for work."

"The grass isn't always greener on the other side." Daniel threw a tilted nod, "From what I hear, I missed one Hell of a party. Tell me Alison was exaggerating."

"No. It really was that messed up. Imagine a college frat party, but instead of college kids, they're all snobs wearing monocles. Now add equal parts booze, drugs, a gunman, kidnapping, and that's essentially the weekend we endured."

And that's when Paul's radio buzzed.

"Just a sec." Paul unclipped his walkie, and pressed the press-to-talk. "Go for Paul."

"Hey, Paul, it's Marcus here. I have security at gatehouse that says they have a visitor for you."

This was strange. Paul wasn't expecting anybody today. "Did they leave a name?"

"Security didn't say."

"Have security escort them to my trailer. I'll take the meeting there."

"Copy that."

Daniel overheard everything. He asked, "Is everything okay?"

Paul shook his head, and blinked several times. "Uh, yeah. Is there anything else we need to cover?"

"Yes. I got a confirmation call from Tin Wang this morning. The first shipment of rebar, fired bricks, clay blocks, and adhesive should be here by the end of the week. I know I'm nagging you, Paul, but please, please, make sure you sign off on all the safety and building code requirements. I don't want to give our insurance any excuse to void our policy."

"I've got it."

"Alright." Daniel patted Paul on the shoulder, "I'll see you at four, then. Don't be late. You know how Rach gets."

Paul watched as Daniel walked off site. He then rushed back to his trailer. It was true, he didn't have any scheduled meetings today, but he had an idea who this unexpected guest may be. Paul whipped open his trailer door, and the familiar scent of pungent perfume invaded his lungs.

Without so much as a hello, Claire lunged at Paul with a flurry of scratches. "You fucking asshole! Where the fuck have you been, huh?!"

Paul grabbed Claire, and shoved her back.

Claire stumbled backwards, and was nearly knocked over by a table.

"What the fuck, Claire?!" Paul shouted, "Have you lost your fucking mind?!"

Claire reached into her bag, and threw something at Paul.

Paul didn't move. Whatever it was, it bounced off his chest, and hit the floor.

"See for yourself!"

Paul sighed. He picked it up. But that didn't clear anything up. "What's the meaning of this?"

"That's a home pregnancy test, you stupid idiot!" Claire screamed; as if the implication couldn't be more obvious, "I'm pregnant!"

\- o -

"Hi. You've reached the voicemail of Donnie Hendrix. I'm not available to take your call right now. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks. And have a great day."

\- o -

The entire Black clan had returned on an earlier flight, including Felix. He was reluctant to leave without Delphine, which was understandable, though he didn't have a say in the matter. Rachel practically had him in a headlock, and threw his skinny ass on the jet; this, according to Sarah's firsthand account. Cosima grew up with Rachel, they all did, and they knew her personality extraordinarily well. Once she sets her mind on something, regardless of what it may be, she'll move mountains to see that her will is done. Felix didn't stand a chance. Cosima wasn't worried though. Rachel's bark was louder than her bite. Once she's had a chance to cool down, she'll come around.

The doctors discharged her earlier this morning. They gave her a clean bill of health, well, except for that GHB she ingested. She had unknowingly ingested GHB, or as it's otherwise known as, the date rape drug. Cosima didn't know when or just exactly how, but the results of her blood test were conclusive.

That dirt bag, Carl de Boer, was going away for a long time. The police found large quantities of GHB on his person. And then there was the unregistered handgun, the attempted kidnapping, the assault with a deadly weapon, and the list goes on. He wasn't going to see the light of day anytime soon. Cosima did not feel bad for him, not for one second. The police found his room; it resembled a sex dungeon. He had power tools, sex toys, gags, and various cameras and tripods. They also found a large quantity of plastic wrap. Carl de Boer had no doubt watched one too many episodes of Dexter. Cosima shuttered to think about it. If it weren't for Delphine's intervention, she would've certainly fallen victim.

Since she was admitted, Cosima has had nothing but time on her hand, and that never ended well. She kept thinking; and thinking; and thinking. By the time she was discharged, she's come to realize something undeniable: she was attracted to Delphine. She felt a connection to her; a pull, of sorts. It was one-sided. But she could not deny it, nor could she control it. It was how she felt, and she couldn't change that about herself. But now that she's come to accept it, maybe, just maybe, she could live with it.

Forty-eight hours ago, Cosima didn't even realize Delphine Cormier even existed. But now, now it felt as if she's known her a lifetime. If only this were true. But sadly, it isn't. Delphine's lifetime was reserved for Felix. And though it was hard, Cosima had to respect that. Felix was her brother; a brother she loved with all her heart and soul. She could never bring herself to hurt him, nor betrayal his trust.

But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy herself. Cosima and Delphine shared the same flight. They talked like they were friends, but shared secrets like they were soulmates. Every sentence, word, and syllable that parted from Delphine's lips captured Cosima's attention, and captivated her being. So much so, she had completely forgotten her anxiety about flying.

"So I was right, then?"

"I have to give credit where credit is due. I was at boarding at Blue Mountain with Felix and Donnie. My ACL snapped like a rubber band, when my snowboard hit a patch of dark ice. I wiped out."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Delphine said earnestly, "I hate it when I'm right."

Cosima leaned forward, and spoke with her hands. "But that was, like, seven years ago. How could you even tell I had a limp? And it was pitch dark, too."

"Like I said, trick of the trade."

Cosima could not forget. Everything that was said that night, under that maple tree, she took to heart, and she kept it there, locked in a vault.

"So tell me about this last job of yours. You weren't really a detective, were you?"

Delphine laughed softly. "No. I'm actually an OB/GYN. I was with MSF for the past year."

Cosima squealed. "No way! You were with Médecins Sans Frontières?! Really?!"

Delphine found Cosima's reaction amusing; she was thrilled to hear the news, though she wondered why. "I try to give back as much as I can."

"My best friend's an emergency physician. She's a lifelong MSF supporter, too."

Now it was Delphine's turn, "Really?"

"Yeah! It's bizarre. She just came back from a tour in Nepal."

"As did I."

Cosima threw her hands up, "Shut the front door! What are the chances?!"

"Well, actually, the chances are quite high. The 8.1 magnitude earthquake that struck Nepal devastated the poorest region of the country. MSF deployed as much resources and personnel as fast as they could, at the request of the Nepalese government. I was one of the first responders on scene."

Delphine was so much more than just a pretty face. She was also incredibly smart. And then there was her sense of charity, generosity, and selflessness. Cosima could not help but feel that attraction deepen, much to her dismay.

"What's your friend's name?"

"Shay. Shay Davydov. She does emergency medicine. She was there for, maybe, sixteen months, if I'm not mistaken."

"No. That name doesn't ring a bell."

"Maybe she was at a different camp."

"Yeah. Maybe. I mean, I moved around a lot."

"Wait!" It almost slipped Cosima's mind; her memory was still a bit foggy. "I almost forgot that you're Batman."

Delphine laughed.

With anybody else, Cosima would've felt embarrassed, but she didn't feel that way, not with Delphine. "I didn't mean it like that. Back at the resort, the way you handled that nut bag, is that where you learned to fight?"

"It is." Delphine said rather proudly, "To be able to help others, you must first learn to protect yourself. And trust me, after two kidnapping attempts and countless muggings and harassment, you'll be able to handle yourself as well."

"Wow." Compared to Delphine, Cosima's life was more mundane than vanilla pudding. "Don't worry, Batman, you're secret's safe with me. I mean, it makes sense, for a woman to know how to handle herself when she's putting herself out there. But what does that have to do with your amazeball, superpower of deduction?"

"Well, a lot, actually. My volunteer work has taken me to some of the poor regions in the world. A lot of these makeshift hospitals can't even afford basic medical necessities. And without adequate diagnostic tools, the only way we can help our patients is by relying heavily on our keen observations and deductions, based on their symptoms, however minutiae they may be. Every bump, bruise, ache, or limp tells a story. And it's up to you, as a physician, to read every single line of that tale, and be able to rewrite the story whole again."

Delphine's passion was unmistakable. Cosima marveled at the way she spoke, with such heart and intensity. "But you said it was your last job. You gave it up?"

In an unshakable tone, Delphine said, "Yes. I did."

Cosima was almost afraid to ask, but she did, "But why?"

"For Felix."

"I see." That's what Cosima thought, too. But it's one thing to know, and another to hear it out loud. Before they had had this conversation, there was at one point where Cosima wanted to ask, point blank, if she loved Felix. She honestly wanted — no, she needed — to know. But that wasn't necessary. Not anymore. Delphine had given up her medical career, and perhaps more importantly, her passion, for Felix. Cosima had no doubt in her mind, whatsoever. This could never be. And perhaps, it was never meant to be.

Delphine answered all of Cosima's questions truthfully. She didn't have a reason to lie, not about her past, anyway. But that last question. She couldn't bring herself to be truthful, for many reasons. She didn't give up her medical practice for Felix, but Cosima won't know that, not until it was too late.

\- o -

The tension in the board room was palpable. The entire world was present, minus Cosima. Not only was everybody present, they were on time as well. They all knew how Rachel felt about tardiness. And at this point, nobody dared agitate the hibernating bear any more so than they already have.

At the head of the table sat Rachel. On one side, were Alison and Felix. And on the other side, were Daniel, followed by Sarah and Paul. They all kept to themselves until the clock winded down. Rachel had called the emergency meeting the moment they touched down in Toronto. And worse yet, she personally phoned each and every one of them; there was no room for escape, or miscommunication.

When the clock finally struck four, and Cosima was nowhere to be seen, Felix took it upon himself to break word, and the tension.

"Can we just get this over with, Rach?"

Though all the Black sisters shared an uncanny resemblance with each other, Rachel was the only one with a stern face, or as it's otherwise known as, bitch face. Rachel's thin lips trembled, and her nostrils flared; she was vexed, and it was plain as day obvious. That was their cue: shit was about to hit the fan.

"Get this over with?! Are you getting a flu shot? There is no over with, Felix." Rachel's tone was razor sharp, "We gave you time off because you burned out. You said you wanted to backpack across Asia? Fine! We were more than willing to accommodate you, and take on your share of the work. We expected you to come back refreshed, energized, and anew. Not with a God damn wife you know nothing about!"

Felix wanted to rebuttal, but was cut off by Alison before he had the chance.

"Rachel's right, Fee. We don't want to see you get hurt. You have to see things from our standpoint, and be in our shoes."

"I'm not a child anymore, Ali."

Rachel added, "You may not be a child, but you're still a petulant boy."

"Oh, please, Rach, save your condescending tone. It's not appreciated." Felix said. "This is my life, and it's my decision. You'll just have to respect that."

Sarah had been dying to know, "So how long have you actually known each other?"

Felix said nothing at first. But on second thought, answered weakly, "A month. Maybe two."

"Jesus, Felix." Paul rarely took sides when it came down to their sibling squabbles. But Paul genuinely cared for Felix; he was like a brother to him. "You can understand where our concerns are coming from, then."

This wasn't a fair fight. It was one against four. Daniel was the only one that kept to himself. But regardless, Felix defended himself vehemently. "We met in Thailand. I was passing through Bangkok when I dropped into a nearby hotel to shower. It was unexpected, I admit, but in the best way possible. Delphine was there to raise money for a local woman's shelter. And it was love at first sight. Can't you get that? Is that really such a preposterous notion?"

Felix was the youngest of all five siblings. The man was twenty-four years old, and most definitely not a child anymore. And yet, Rachel could not believe his brother's naïvety. This was worse than that time he wanted to join a wicca coven during his emo, rebellious years.

There was a knock at the door. And in walked Cosima, with the woman of the hour.

"Sorry, Rach. I don't have an excuse for being late. Well, you know, besides the fact that I was drugged, almost kidnapped at gunpoint by a deranged madman, and could've potentially been sexually assaulted. Oh, and the fact that I just flew in from Montréal only moments ago."

"Sit down, Cosima." Rachel said seriously, "I don't have time for your witty sarcasm."

On first impulse, Cosima wanted to sit next to Felix, but on second thought, she left that seat for Delphine. It was appropriate. Cosima pulled the chair out for her.

"Thank you."

"So what's so urgent that this can't wait?" Cosima sensed the palpable electricity the moment she set foot in the room, but she wanted to take a lighter approach. "I'm, technically, still on sick leave. I've even got a doctor's note."

Felix was beyond annoyed; he was irritated. "You can disapprove of this union all you like. And you can shove that dissatisfaction in a jam jar and mail it to Istanbul. This is a personal matter. And whether you choose to accept this marriage or not, I don't care, and quite frankly, it does not concern any of you."

Delphine rubbed Felix's arm, and did her best to quell his rage. "Don't say that, Fee. They're your family. They care about you."

Rachel tossed a document on the table. "That's where you're wrong."

Alison grabbed the papers, and gave it a look-see. She recognized it almost immediately. "It's a prenup."

"A prenup?"

Alison nodded. "Yeah. It's the ones the corporate lawyers drew up. You know Steve, or Stephen, or whatever the Hell is name is."

"That's the prenup all your sisters and I had our husbands sign, before our nuptials." Rachel explained, "I couldn't care less about your measly assets. That's not what this is about. That prenup serves one purpose, and one purpose only."

And that's when Cosima came to the realization, like a bag of bricks to the face. That's why Rachel was going berserk, more so than her usual cranky self.

"Shite." Sarah came to the same foregone conclusion, too. "Your 10% stake in Black Crown Corp., Felix. You didn't sign a prenup. Which means Delphine will retain 5% of Black Crown Corp., should your marriage dissolve."

Cosima didn't like this witch hunt. The way they spoke about Delphine, they made it seem like she was a gold digger. It was downright rude, to both Delphine and Felix. And that's when she spoke up, "Guys, Delphine's sitting right here. Come on."

Felix was at his wit's end. "She's not after my bloody money, if that's what you're worried about!"

"Don't do it, Fee." Delphine pleaded.

Rachel prodded further, "Please share, Felix, and put our worries to rest."

"Her mother is the daughter of Charles E. Johnston; the founder of Johnston and Johnston. So if it's money you're worried about, don't be, cause she has plenty of it!"

That was the one thing Delphine didn't want Felix to disclose. Felix was taking things from bad, to worse, to now DEFCON five. Delphine needed the Black family to trust her, to treat her like one of their very own. This was the exact opposite of that.

"Now if we're done here, I've gone plenty of work to catch up on."

"You're not excused. Now sit down."

Felix reluctantly did as he was told.

Rachel continued, "Consider this an official notice. I've raised a closed seed round for the Emerald City project."

Daniel's greedy eyes lit up brighter than Christmas lights. "You did?"

Rachel pressed on the intercom, and said, "Send her in, please."

Nobody saw this coming.

In walked none other than Kára Lang.

Everyone, except Delphine, recognized her. But nobody expected her.

Kára strutted her stuff like she was a model on a runway for Paris Fashion week.

Rachel stood up, "Everybody, please meet Kára."

"Pleasure to be here."

Sarah's mouth dropped to the floor, "You're shitting us, right, Rach?"

"No. She gave us the highest valuation for the project. We've accepted her proposal. Kára Lang will retain 18.5% ownership of the final project."

Cosima's heart dropped to the pits of her stomach. Rachel had not only betrayed her trust, she had essentially slapped her in the face.

Rachel couldn't miss the blatant hurt written on Cosima's face. This was business, but still, it pained her to see her baby sister like that. Rachel tossed the agreement in Sarah's direction. She then left without another word, or so much as an explanation. Sometimes she hated her job, and sometimes her family. But today, Rachel loathed herself.

The moment Rachel was out of sight, Sarah jumped, she physically jumped, from her seat and lunged at Kára. Paul's lightning reflexes was the only thing that kept her at bay.

"Stop it, Sarah!"

Sarah screamed, "I ought to deck you, you cunt!"

"I hope you can put all your prejudice for me aside, and focus on this amazing project we have at hand."

Kara followed that with a smile.

Alison was the most levelheaded, and definitely the most reserved, one of the lot but she, too, lost it. "Sarah's right. You are a cunt."

Cosima tipped her chair back, and bolted for the doors. She hadn't taken more than five steps, when she felt Kára grab her.

"Please, Cosima, hear me out."

Cosima spun around, and without so much as a warning, she decked Kára square in the jaw.

Kára went down hard.

Nobody said a word, nor were they surprised. Nobody got up to intervene, nor did they extend a helping hand.

The only person that was taken aback was Delphine. She was also the only person left in the dark about the history Cosima and Kára Lang shared.

"I warned you, Kára, to never lay a hand on me, ever again." Cosima seethed, "I meant it."

Sarah stood up, and she literally clapped.

Sometimes she hated this job, and sometimes her family. But today, Cosima loathed Rachel.

\- o -

 **A/N: Rate me.**


	7. Chapter 7: Lies, lies, lies

**CH 7: Lies, Lies, Lies**

It was that time again. It was Sunday, which meant the Black family would meet up and enjoy the company of each other, over Sunday night dinner. It was Alison's turn to take the helm. The timing could not be more perfect. The family was in dire need to rekindle their familial bond. Not only that, but this was Felix's first family dinner since his return. Alison wanted — no, she needed — everything to be perfect.

Come seven o'clock, the family began to trickle in from all four corners of the Black residence. Before them were an array of dishes, from a variety of different cuisines. Alison went all out, and covered all her bases; there were six appetizers, and five different main courses. But regardless of how delicious the food was, something wasn't enjoyable about the dinner. The ambiance was downright somber and heavy.

The entire world was present, including the newest member of the family: Delphine. But there was one body that was noticeably missing; she was also the cause for the strife between the Black siblings. Cosima was nowhere to be found. She was well aware of the dinner, yet she didn't care enough to show up, though nobody blamed her. Cosima hadn't been home since she decked Kára Lang, which ended up being the talk of the town. All her calls were unanswered. And worst yet, Cosima had stopped coming to work. There was a mountain of projects that required her attention, yet they were left unattended to.

Paul was renowned for his bottomless pit stomach, but not tonight. There were plenty of leftover. And Alison hated that. Sarah couldn't even finish her plate. She kept pushing her food around.

When Alison couldn't take it anymore, she finally said, "Oh, come on, Sarah, not you, too."

"Sorry, Ali." Sarah said sincerely. "The food looks great, but I'm not hungry."

Felix added, "Your cooking's much better than I remembered, Ali."

"It really is delicious." Delphine said.

"Too bad Cosima couldn't join us."

There it was. Donnie said the one thing the entire family had been circumventing the entire evening. At the mention of her sister, Sarah, who had been awfully quiet the entire dinner, lost her shit.

"You really fucked up big time, Rachel."

Rachel said nothing.

Paul said, "Ease up, Sarah."

Sara shrugged away Paul's hand, and pressed forward, "No. She needs to hear this. Does family not mean anything to you? Cause from my standpoint, you obviously chose Kára Lang over Cosima!"

Rachel drank from her glass, as if she heard not a single word.

The fact that Rachel simply ignored her, made Sarah even angrier.

The tense standoff was broken when Donnie's cell phone went off.

"I have to take this. Excuse me."

Sarah was seethed. And that's when she said something she most certainly should not have. "If mother was here, she would've never allowed such a deal to go through. Mother would never choose business over family. Never. But you? You sold Cosima down the river the first chance you got. You don't even have the balls to admit it, do you?"

Alison buried her face in her hands, and averted her eyes. Felix reacted in the same manner, only with him, he threw his head back in disbelief. They both knew that that was Rachel's Achilles heels, and what does Sarah do? She goes straight for the kill.

Daniel pleaded, "That's not fair, Sarah. Don't —"

"You shut your mouth!" Rachel barked.

"Or what?" Sarah threw down her fork, "You'll pull my hair, and break my Polly Pocket, again?!"

Paul jumped in, and tried to diffuse the escalating tension. "Come on, Sarah, give Rachel a break. She did what she thought was best for the company."

"That's just it! All we ever do is give her a break!" Sarah gestured at Alison and Felix, "All we ever do is forgive and forget! This is our company as well, yet we never get a say. Well I'm sick and tired of it."

Both Alison and Felix felt the same way. But neither of them said anything; Sarah was the only one that had the cojones to confront Rachel.

Sarah shot out of her seat, "I'm giving you fair warning, Rachel. If you pull this kind of stunt again, I'll call for a board vote, and I'll have you unseated as CEO of Black Crown Corp. We're all equal stakeholders. Every last one of us, Blacks. But don't you forget, when push comes to shove, it's four against one."

Rachel's eyes widened freakishly, and her lips thinned; her nostrils flared. She was already out her chair before Daniel could grab her. Rachel closed the gap, and she slapped Sarah across the face.

Sarah grabbed her reddened cheek; the surprise couldn't even compare to the hurt she felt. She shot daggers at Rachel.

Rachel stood her ground.

Sarah turned, and she left.

Paul followed, but he had parting words for Rachel. "You shouldn't take your frustration out on her. Not when we both know what this is really about."

Rachel was steaming. She, too, departed. And with her, Daniel left, too.

By the time Donnie finished his call, half the table was empty. "Did I miss something?"

Felix replied, "Yeah. The catfight of the century, is what."

"Sarah isn't wrong, you know." Alison said, "Rachel really has changed for the worse, since she assumed control of Black Crown."

Felix sighed. "And that, Delphine, is my crazy family. That's just a tiny preview. You married into this madness."

Delphine forced a smile. Her entire being was consumed with regret. She questioned her initial decision to accept this assignment. Just what exactly did she get herself into?

\- o -

The day had come and gone, and night had long fallen. Cosima hasn't set foot in Black Crown Corp. for days now. She felt guilty. It was childish on her part to play hooky, and to pawn the workload onto her sisters and staffers, but she honestly couldn't face Rachel, and she simply dreaded seeing Kára. She hasn't been home either. But she did keep in touch with Alison, Sarah, and even Felix, albeit via text messages. She didn't want her family to worry about her, well, too much, anyways.

Cosima rolled around the Queen sized mattress aimlessly. She was bored out of her mind.

"You know, when I said you could stay over, I imagined something totally different."

Shay was by the door way, in her night gown.

"I'm bored. And there's nothing good on Netflix."

"Well, what did you expect, Cosima? You've been wallowing around the place for a week now. You've been glued to the TV, and your ass print is forever etched on my couch."

Cosima gave Shay the evil eye.

"What? It's true." Shay said, "Look, why don't you take some time off, and travel a bit?"

Cosima replied childishly, "No."

"Then get a hobby."

"I don't want to."

Shay gave up, "You're impossible, Cosima Niehaus Black, you know that?"

And then it struck her. "Hey! Why don't I volunteer at MSF? It'll be totally cool. I can give back to the community, and you can show me the ropes. And during our downtime, we can Netflix and chill."

"Uh. I don't think that's what you think it means." Shay said bewilderedly. "Besides, I'm no longer with the organization."

"What? Since when?"

"Since my last tour." Shay said. "It's high time I settled down. I can't keep jet setting like I'm in my twenties, anymore."

"Oh." Cosima was disappointed, but she understood where Shay was coming from. "That's too bad. Hey. Did I ever tell you? Felix's new wife, Delphine Cormier, she was with MSF, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She was in Nepal around the same time as you. But she said she's never heard of you."

Shay furrowed her brows, and cleared her throat. "Uh. It makes sense ….cause I was only there for maybe a week or two, before I was relocated to Myanmar. I guess I forgot to mention that last time."

"Oh. Whatever. It was just a thought. Maybe I should become an Uber driver, then." Cosima laid back down. "So what's your plan now, Dr. Davydov?"

Shay wasn't about to let Cosima off the hook. She grabbed a pillow, and she swung it right at Cosima. "Nuh-uh! You're not changing the topic! You're too old to be a run-away. So whatever it is, get it off your chest, so we can get it over with."

"Okay. Okay. Geez." Cosima's took a moment, "I can't stop thinking about that manipulative bitch. And every time I do, it makes my blood boil."

"Would it help if I did a Dr. Phil impersonation?"

Cosima wanted to laugh, but she couldn't even bring herself to smile. "I never did tell you why we broke up, did I?"

"No. You haven't. It's been two years now; and I didn't want to pry."

In a voice barely above a whisper, Cosima said, "Kára beat me. She came back from a rave one night, high out of her mind. She reeked of sweat, booze, sex and everything in between. I don't know how to explain it, but she had this look I've never seen before. Kára wanted to be intimate, but I wasn't in the mood. In fact, I was furious that she would allow herself to get so fucked up. We got into a heated spat. And the next thing I knew, she came at me."

Shay opened and closed her mouth several times, though no words were formed.

"I was beaten to an inch of death. One of the neighbors overheard the commotion, and called the police. If they hadn't arrived when they did, I'm almost positive, that I would've died that night. I spent the first month of recovery in ICU."

Shay muttered, "I'm so sorry, Cosima, I didn't know."

At some point during the story, unbeknownst to even herself, Cosima started crying. "That's why I can't be near her, Shay, I can't even look at her. She scares me."

Shay pulled Cosima in and gave her a comforting hug. "You should've told me, Cos. I would've never agreed to help her, had I known."

Cosima wiped away the tears with her back hand. "Besides my family, I haven't told a single soul. I don't want people to see me as a victim. I was one, but not anymore."

"You're the strongest woman I know." Shay gave Cosima a peck on the forehead, "And you can stay here for as long as you like. I mean it. Rent-free, too."

"Thanks. But I'll probably head home tomorrow. Your spare bed is lumpy in all the wrong places."

Shay slapped her, "Ass wipe."

"You're a good friend, Shay." Cosima headed for the door. "Goodnight."

Shay smiled. The moment the door closed behind Cosima, that smile fell from Shay's face. This was bad. Had she known beforehand what a fucking cunt Kára Lang was, she would've never accepted her assistance, or her money. But it's too late now. Shay kept a dark secret hidden from Cosima: Kára Lang owned her soul now.

\- o -

The room was in a private section of the casino. It had only one exit point, and it was heavily guarded by armed guards, most likely a part of the casino's special security detail. Everything about this place screamed exclusivity.

Ever since that masquerade party, Donnie's life has changed forever. It was his brush with the game of baccarat, that truly opened his eyes. He never fancied himself a gambler, but he was a born natural. The numbers processed in his mind faster than he could react. That very night, he walked away with $5000.

Since then, Donnie was bitten by the bug. It wasn't the money that he was drawn to. No. It was the rush that comes with winning. Every time he won a hand, the sensation was nothing short of exhilarating. And before he knew it, he found himself spending all his free time at the local casino. Baccarat wasn't as popular in Toronto, but poker sure was. Donnie made the transition with ease.

And when the casino found out he was a member of the prominent Black family, they treated him like he was a God. Donnie enjoyed the game, but he was a statistician first and foremost, and a poker player secondly. If the odds weren't in his favor, regardless of what his intuition or instincts told him, he would fold and walk away. It's a strategy he devised from watching some of the world's most elite cash game players: Phil Ivey, Tom Dwan, and Patrik Antonious.

Donnie had kept Alison in the dark about his new passion. He knew she wouldn't agree with him, which was why he found it easier to simply keep her in the dark. They kept separate bank accounts, though they did have joint investments. It was necessary. It didn't matter how good you were, unless you had a bankroll to play with, you were a nobody in the poker world. Donnie sold a few of their mutual funds, and emptied their tax free savings account. Alison rarely dealt with their finances, much less the bookkeeping. She won't notice. And before long, Donnie was certain he'll be able to put the money back where it belonged, long before she found out.

Ever since that call at dinnertime, he had been itching to play. For tonight's no-limit hold 'em game, it was a $200,000 minimum buy-in. Donnie bought in for $300,000. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. He kept the pot small. He never shoved pre-flop. And he most certainly never bluffed. You can't argue with a system that worked though. The session had started only three hours ago, and Donnie was already up $200,000. The guy beside him, Dan, was the biggest loser so far. He kept throwing him the stink eye, but he couldn't care less. This was poker.

There were CCTVs everywhere. The dealers rotated every one hundred hands. And Carlos, the floor manager, observed every hand with a hawk eye. The man was intense, to say the least. The game was due to end in another hour. If Donnie could lock it down, and avoid big pots, he'll pocket $200K, easily. And if everything goes according to plan, he'll be able to put all the money back into their joint accounts, and still be left with enough to continue playing.

A few of the guys had busted, and rebought for another $200,000. Donnie understood their frustration. The game was about to draw to an end, and they were stuck. But he didn't care. Donnie kept his eye on the time, and practically folded every hand he was dealt.

As the session drew to a close, Donnie noticed a shift in the tension. A few of the guys were hurting, and Donnie understood their pain, but Carlos appeared strained; it was unusual, but not exactly strange.

The dealer stood up, and a new dealer swapped in.

Carlos announced, "Last hand of the evening, gentlemen, make it count."

The new dealer shuffled, and dealt the last hand of the session.

Donnie was on the button, and the last to act. He pried the cards up, and peeked. Donnie held pocket Aces. He watched carefully, as the play slowly made its way back to him. Dan was to act before him; he reloaded and had more than $200,000 before him.

"All in."

Those were the two words Donnie dreaded hearing. Donnie paused and ran the numbers in his head, but they came up inconclusive. He didn't have enough information to make an informed decision, not without seeing a flop, but that wasn't possible, not when Dan shoved all in. Donnie was torn. If he won the hand, he could easily scoop up another $200K, and even if he lost, he would only lose the earnings he won tonight, his initial buy-in would remain untouched. But something about this hand didn't feel right. Donnie couldn't explain it.

"Fold."

Dan said not a word, nor did he appear ecstatic to win a pot.

He made it! Donnie had $565,000 in chips. He was in the green, and damn proud of it. Donnie hurried off, and did his best to avoid the dirty looks thrown his way. He arranged for two armed guards to escort him, and his winnings, to his car. This was it. He was in the home stretch. The valet brought his car to the adjoining lot, and the armed guards escorted Donnie into his vehicle, and saw that he was secure before they departed.

Donnie sat in the driver's seat, and he couldn't contain himself. He was practically squealing.

There was a tap on the window. "Mr. Hendrix?"

Donnie recognized the uniform, but not the guard. "Yeah?"

Before Donnie knew what hit him, the guard shattered his driver's side window, and forced his door open. Several more guards appeared, and each and every one of them were wearing the casino's uniform. They formed a circle, and began beating the daylights out of him.

Donnie did his best to protect himself, but his efforts were futile. The guards were merciless. They pummeled him to a bloody pulp.

When the beating finally stopped, there emerged Carlos Menendez, the floor manager.

Carlos grabbed Donnie by a lock of his hair, "That's for cheating in my casino."

Donnie struggled to breath; blood was trickling down his windpipe. "I swear…I didn't."

"If you weren't cheating, why else would you fold pocket Aces pre-flop?"

One of the guards handed Carlos the briefcase.

"And this, well, House always takes a cut. Have a goodnight, Mr. Hendrix."

\- o -

The door closed with a gentle click.

"Did anybody see you?"

"No."

"Good." Daniel pulled out a bank draft, and handed it over. "That's the rest of your payment, in full, as promised."

"I still don't get what the point of this is."

Daniel stoic face gave nothing away. "You don't have to. He thinks you're pregnant, and that's all you need to know. I need you to keep up the charade, until I say so."

Claire shrugged. "Whatever. I'll never say no to easy money. Call me if you need me."

Daniel watched Claire go. This was all his doing. He had a private investigator tail Rachel. And the moment he knew she was in cahoots with Kára Lang, he knew Sarah would be the first to challenge Rachel, and with it, her position as CEO of Black Crown Corp. Daniel knew Sarah's personality too well. He loved Rachel, yes, but he also loved money and power, even more so. Daniel could not, and would not, let anybody depose of Rachel's power within Black Crown Corp.

Sarah brought this on herself. And the only way to control Sarah, was to control Paul. With Claire Hatcher on his side, Daniel was certain he had Paul under his thumb, with it, Sarah Manning Black. And if that wasn't enough, he also had the sex tapes. This was too damn easy.

\- o -

"So this is what you do?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's nothing to scoff about, as I do own my own freaking company, but it's mostly pencil pushing, at its finest."

"I didn't mean it like that, honey." Delphine said sweetly. "I'm thankful for the chance."

"I honestly feel like you're overqualified, Delphine." Felix said sincerely, "Why would you give up your license? You should seriously consider starting your own practice."

"This is a nice change of pace. I want something different, Fee. If this becomes too stressful, you'll be the first to know."

"Alright." Felix relented. "But don't feel obligated to stay though."

"I won't, honey."

"Good." Felix handed Delphine her orientation folder, "Phase One of the Emerald City project is nearing completion. We're going to start the pre-construction sale soon. Familiarize yourself with the legalities firstly, starting with our standard clauses."

"Okay."

"You won't handle the actual sale. Only licensed realtors can, but you can definitely sell." Felix said, "We have a realty division, with no less than twenty realtors. They'll all be fighting for a piece of that lucrative commission, but it's also an opportunity for you to learn the inside tricks of the trade."

Delphine quickly skimmed through the folder. It wasn't med school bad, but it was still a lot of information to process. Delphine wasn't familiar with the realty sector at all, which made this all the more difficult.

"We're meeting Acquisitions tomorrow, to finalize the chattels that'll be included in the units."

Delphine's eyes brightened, "Mark that in your calendar, or you'll forget."

"Good thinking." Felix reached for his phone. He then patted his pockets, every single one of them. "Shit. I didn't lose it, did I?"

"Try calling it."

Felix did just that. "It's ringing."

Delphine clutched her bag tight, as she watched on.

"There's no answer."

"Actually, come to think of it, I think you left it in your car. I saw it in the cup holder."

"Shite. Let me go check." Felix hurried off, "I'll be right back."

The door closed.

Delphine scurried behind Felix's desktop. It was still logged in to the company's intranet. Delphine inserted a USB into the port. A popup window appeared shortly. Delphine clicked yes. The USB contained a sophisticated program designed to duplicate a computer's hard drive.

While the files transferred, Delphine pulled out Felix's phone from her bag. She had snatched it during lunch, when Felix stepped out to pay. Delphine threw the phone underneath the desk.

The computer had fifty-seven gigabytes worth of data. Because of the size, the transfer was slow and laggy. It was only at 28% completion.

There was a knock at the door.

Delphine froze. But upon second thought, she realized it couldn't be Felix; he would never knock on his own door.

"Come in."

And in walked Cosima.

Cosima was pleasantly surprised at the sight of Delphine. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

Delphine stole a quick glance at the monitor. The transfer was at 41% completion.

"Checking my email." Delphine scrambled out from behind the desk, and approached Cosima. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my ex-girlfriend is stalking me, my sister stabbed me in the back, and my life is now in shambles." Cosima said casually, "You know, your typical Monday family drama."

Delphine smiled genuinely; she loved Cosima's sense of humor. "You're cheeky."

"What can I say? Some people are gifted, and others talented, while all I got is cheeky."

Delphine hadn't known Cosima long, but she always gave her the impression of being strong, confident, and optimistic. This was the complete opposite of that. Delphine knew how Cosima felt about her; she wasn't an idiot, but it couldn't be, not when she was tangled in this web of madness.

It just happened. Delphine couldn't explain it, nor did she know why. She pulled Cosima in, and she hugged her.

The sudden burst of affection threw Cosima off guard. But she couldn't bring herself to resist, not when she needed the comfort. Cosima returned the embrace. "Thanks. I need that. Well, that and a restraining order. Where's Fee?"

"He stepped out for a moment. He was briefing me on the Emerald City project."

"You're working here?" Cosima was stupefied. "I know you said you gave up medicine, but why here?"

"Felix wanted us to work together." Delphine said innocently, "It's really not that bad. And you know Felix, when he gives you that puppy dog eye, you can't say no."

Cosima faked a smile, "Felix is a lucky guy."

"And I'm a lucky gal."

"I'm going to head out. I've got to cry myself to sleep later." Cosima said half jokingly, "Tell Felix I stopped by."

"Oh, come on, Cosima, don't do that." Delphine couldn't bring herself to see Cosima wallow in misery. "Why don't we go out for dinner tonight? Think of it as a girls' night out, kind of thing."

Cosima was conflicted; a part of her wanted to say yes, while her mind was telling her no.

"I'm not taking no for an answer." Delphine said persistently, "I'll pick you up at seven."

"Fuck it." Cosima gave in; it was too tempting to pass over. "Deal. And I'll even let you pay for my meal, on account of me being sad and all. Free food will definitely brighten my mood."

"Cheeky."

The door creaked, and much to Delphine's dismay, Felix entered.

"Hey, Cos, where you been?"

"Hey, you."

Delphine ran to grab her bag in one hand, and the USB in the other. Then in one fluid motion, she dropped the USB into her bag, and out of sight.

"You find your phone, Fee?"

"No. It's not there. I checked."

"Of course it isn't, silly." Delphine bent down, and put on an elaborate show. "It was right here all along. You must have dropped it under your desk."

"Thanks, love."

"Cosima and I are doing a girls' night out." Delphine said, "Is that okay?"

"Of course." Felix snaked an arm around Cosima's shoulder, "Go and let your hair down, yeah?"

Cosima rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to go. I've got some light reading to do." Delphine made off, "I'll see you at seven."

Cosima watched Delphine go.

"You're one lucky bastard, Fee."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"But you really shouldn't force her to work for Black Crown Corp. You and I both know this place sucks your soul."

"What are you talking about?"

"Delphine gave up medicine, to work here? Are you bonkers?"

"I didn't force her to do anything, Cos." Felix said defensively. "Delphine wanted this. She practically begged me to get her a job here."

Cosima didn't know what to think. "Huh."

"Forget about that." Felix changed topic, "I've got to get you caught up on last night's fight."

"Go on."

"Sarah confronted Rach about Kára Lang. And get this: Sarah brought up mother."

Cosima's eyes widened in disbelief, "Jesus! How bad was it?"

"Soap opera bad. Rach slapped the daylights out of Sarah. If you're really quiet at night, you can still hear the echo."

Cosima felt incredibly guilty. She never should have had Sarah fight her battle for her. She had to settle things with Rachel, just not tonight. Tonight was girls' night.

\- o -

This was her third attempt. The dial tone was near the end, and just as the call was about to be transferred to voicemail, the call was finally picked up.

"There's a reason I'm not picking up. I'm in the middle of something."

"It's an emergency."

"I'm listening."

"I've got it."

"Really?"

"You'll have unrestricted access to Black Crown Corp., including their books, as well as their servers."

"How did you manage that?"

"Don't ask."

"Okay. I won't. We'll speak soon."

"Fine. If that's all you have to say."

"Oh. And, Delphine?"

"What?"

"Good job."

"Go to Hell, asshole."

\- o -

 **A/N: Insert a quarter.**


	8. Chapter 8: Drama, Drama, Drama

**CH 8: Drama, Drama, Drama**

"Now watch me whip. Now watch me Nae Nae." Kira jumped, and she bopped, and she grooved with the tune of the beat. "Now watch me Superman!"

Paul ran a towel over his damp hair, when he walked in on his eight year old daughter bouncing around the TV.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?"

"Dancing." Kira said, "I saw them do a flash mob of this song on Youtube."

Paul lifted Kira up, and sat her down on his lap. He gave her a quick once over. Kira's cheeks were rosy, and her energy level was back up again. The medication Dr. Schultz prescribed had worked wonderfully.

"Wanna dance with me, Daddy?"

Paul smiled, "Only if you teach me."

"It's not that hard!"

Kira hopped off, and began dancing once more.

Paul followed Kira's lead, but only halfheartedly. It wasn't the dance he treasured, but their time together. He loved Kira more than anything in this world. And every time he thought about Kira, he can't help but think about Claire Hatcher. She was nothing more than a mistake. A prolonged mistake, but a mistake, nonetheless. Paul knew what he had to do. He had to protect his family. He had to sever all ties with Claire. Paul had already made up his mind. He was going to buy Claire's silence, and with it, the termination of her pregnancy, too.

"Daddy!" Kira whined, "It's called the Superman. You have to pretend like you're flying in the air."

The father-daughter duo were rudely interrupted by Paul's phone. It was a text from Claire. At the sight of the caller ID, Paul's face darkened.

What Paul didn't realize was Sarah's presence. She had been watching their interaction from the very beginning. She didn't miss the subtle change in Paul's demeanor when he received that text.

"Everything alright?"

Paul jumped at the sound of Sarah's voice, but quickly recovered. "Yeah. There was an incident at the Emerald City site, and Manny wants me to drop by."

"Now? At this hour?"

"I'll be back in no time." Paul gave Kira, and Sarah, a quick peck.

Paul rushed into the bedroom to change.

And before she knew it, he was out the door.

Paul hadn't left for more than five minutes when Sarah's phone rang. The coincidence was uncanny. And maybe, just maybe, it was a coincidence at all.

It wasn't a text Sarah received. It was a picture. And it's true what they say: a picture is worth a thousand words. This one picture left a devastating effect, more powerful than a thousand words.

It was from an unknown number. But that wasn't the cause for Sarah's dismay.

\- o -

When Delphine first proposed a girls' night out, Cosima honestly thought they were going to let their hair down, and paint the town red. What she didn't expect was Delphine to drive her to her suburban condo apartment. It wasn't because Cosima felt uncomfortable in Delphine's presence. No. It was the complete opposite. Cosima felt comfortable with her, maybe a bit too much.

In the elevator ride, Cosima noticed Delphine enter a passcode into the panel, and then and only then, was she able to press for the penthouse suite.

"Felix wasn't kidding when he said you were loaded, was he?"

"My mother's rich. I'm merely well off, is all."

The elevator opened right into her apartment. It wasn't something you see too often, well, anywhere, and Cosima made a point of that.

"Holy Watershed, Batman. This place is like the Wayne Manor, but you know, if Bruce Wayne lived in a condo."

The apartment was stylish and spacious, but yet somehow, it seemed impersonal and cold. There was no personal touch besides the basic generic decorations.

It was as if Delphine had heard Cosima's unvoiced observation. "I don't come here often. It's my secret getaway when I feel stressed and claustrophobic."

Cosima wandered around the bachelor flat with a sense of curiosity and wonder. The place had a panoramic view of downtown Toronto, and a distant outline of the CN Tower, that was to die for.

"You want a glass of wine?"

"Sure." Cosima accepted the glass, "Do you need any help? I can't cook to save my life, but I'm super handy with a can opener."

"All I want for you to do is relax, Cosima. I invited you to this dinner date. I wouldn't be a very good hostess if I made you cook." Delphine gave a mischievous smirk, "Besides, Felix told me about the time you tried making Kira homemade sweet potato fries."

"He told you?!"

"Well, to be fair, so did Alison. So if you'll pardon me, I don't really fancy a grease fire, with the off chance that we'll both die painfully and agonizingly, from a house fire."

"Geez. This took a dark turn." Cosima drank deep from her glass. "Has Felix ever been here?"

"No." Delphine answered truthfully, "You're the first guest I've had here in quite a while. I love Felix, I do, but this is my sanctuary to get away from the madness."

Cosima couldn't agree more. "My family is the pinnacle definition of madness, so I don't blame you. We can have our own special on Dr. Phil, or Jerry Springer, or Maury. Pick one."

"Have a seat. Dinner is served."

"Already?" Cosima looked up at the time, "It hasn't even been half an hour."

"Are you usually this chatty when you're nervous?"

Cosima cocked an eyebrow, "Is it that obvious?"

Delphine grinned, "I think you're forgetting about my amazeball, superpower of deduction, as you so eloquently put it."

Cosima's heart did a somersault. Those were her exact words, and Delphine remembered; she actually remembered!

Fresh off the stove top, Delphine served up a steaming hot bowl of macaroni and cheese, with pieces of hot dog cut up. And it wasn't gourmet mac and cheese either, it was Kraft Dinner, with its infamous orange cheese.

Cosima couldn't help herself as the biggest smile graced her lips, and her brown eyes lit up brightly. "How did you know?"

"Alison talks. A lot. She told me that this was your most favorite thing in the world. Your mother used to make it for the family, before you came into money."

"There's five of us: Rachel, Alison, Sarah, me, and Felix. My mom had to really stretch a dollar thin to feed us all." There was a hint of sadness behind Cosima's eyes. "May I?"

"Please." Delphine gestured, "Be my guest."

Cosima scooped up a spoon full, and in a child-like fashion, she chowed down. The liquidly cheese mixed with the al dente macaroni, and the saltiness of the hot dog to finish it off, was the perfect combination. The sensation brought a warmth to Cosima's stomach, unlike anything she's ever felt before.

Delphine watched on with an equally bright smile, as Cosima devoured that bowl of mac and cheese with delight. That was another thing Delphine liked about Cosima. She wasn't the least bit pretentious. She was down to Earth, and enjoyed the little things in life. Delphine could've fed her surf and turf, truffles, caviar, or even foie gras, and she wouldn't be as happy as she is now, with a $3 bowl of mac and cheese. And for that, Delphine couldn't help but fall for Cosima a little bit more.

As the night winded down, and several more glasses of wine later, both Cosima and Delphine let loose, and simply enjoyed the company of each other. They had a lot in common, more so than they initially realized. They were both twenty-eight, which meant they grew up in the 90's, and had the same interest and obsessions as kids. And then they talked about Hey Arnold, Doug, Recess, Animaniacs, and who can forget Rugrats and Dexter's Laboratory! They spent a good amount of time arguing about Arthur. And just what the Hell he was. They were both in agreement that between Pinkie and the Brain, Pinkie was definitely the genius. And they both had their own conspiracy theories about who really shot Mr. Burns.

By the end of the night, Cosima's mood had lightened considerably, and her previous drama temporarily forgotten.

Cosima was tipsy, but even so, her mindset remained intact. "It's getting late. I should probably go."

"Oh." Delphine grabbed her reddened cheeks, "I'm so sorry, Cosima, but I don't think I can drive you."

"Don't be silly. I'll just hail a taxi. Or an Uber." Cosima thought for a second, "Probably a taxi. All my Uber drivers have been uber creepy thus far." And then she giggled, "See what I did there?"

"Please, don't go. I insist. You can take the bed. I don't want you going anywhere, not like this."

"No. Really. Don't worry —"

And that's when Delphine grabbed Cosima's hand.

Through nobody's fault, the moment their hands touched, inexplicably, their fingers intertwined with a mind of its own.

The mere skin on skin contact gave Cosima goosebumps. Her heart jumped into her throat.

No words were exchanged. Nor was there a need for it.

Their bodies were dangerously close.

Delphine dipped down, and captured Cosima's lips.

Cosima was reluctant, as her lips stilled. She didn't know when, or how, but soon she found herself on her tippy toes, as her lips danced away to the tune of their fiery passion.

This went on for what seemed like an eternity, when in reality, only mere minutes passed. But in those few minutes' time, neither Delphine nor Cosima have ever felt this alive and invigorated as they are now.

The ringtone from Cosima's phone was amplified as it echoed off the spacious walls.

The trance was broken.

Delphine stepped back, as her clarity returned.

Cosima straightened her glasses, and cleared her throat. "Excuse me."

On some level, Cosima thanked her lucky stars that her phone interrupted them. If not, she might just regret her irreversible actions. Cosima recognized the number. She barely had a chance to speak, when the caller immediately bombarded her with an overload of information. By the end of the two minute call, all Cosima was able to get out was, "What?!"

\- o -

The Black mansion was huge, and it was every bit isolated, solitary, and cold. Rachel hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Not since the day she consciously made the decision to backstab Cosima. To some degree, Paul was right. Rachel's frustration was misplaced. She should have never laid a hand on Sarah. Never. Rachel knew she would rest easier if she apologized, to both siblings. A simple sorry would suffice, and yet, it was easier said than done. Rachel's ego, and pride, prevented her from doing so. It was arrogant, and downright stupid, but she couldn't change that about herself, no matter how hard she tried.

Rachel had plenty of vices, and alcohol was not one of them. But today was a particularly rough day. And so, she indulged herself. Rachel downed shot, after shot, after shot of whiskey, straight. The alcohol burned her insides. The burn felt good. It felt like a deserving punishment, for being such a shitty sister.

When she couldn't bear the loneliness anymore, Rachel ventured about the household. Felix was out with friends. Cosima hasn't been back. Sarah and Paul weren't in their quarters, though she did find Alison with Kira, and apparently on baby sitter duty. Rachel sobered up at the sight of her niece. She didn't linger. She didn't want Kira to see her like this. But before she departed, Rachel gave Kira a kiss goodnight. She loved Kira. Though she and Sarah had their differences, Kira will forever and always be her precious niece.

Four siblings, two brothers-in-law, one sister-in-law, and one niece, and yet, Rachel couldn't be lonelier in her darkest times. It didn't slip Rachel's mind that she had a husband. But much like their marriage, he wasn't dependable. When she needed his comfort the most, he was nowhere to be found. But there was one place Rachel hadn't checked yet: Daniel's study. It was his sacred sanctuary. And she respected that. But tonight, she wasn't in the mood to respect jack-shit.

Rachel made her way down the hallway. She gave the knob a try, and like she expected, it was locked. If she was her usual calm and collected self, she would've looked for the spare key. But not tonight she wasn't. Rachel placed several well timed kicks to the latch of the door. It wasn't sturdy. Nor was it reinforced. The door splintered against the frame, and it came undone.

The lights were off. The whiskey was much stronger than she initially thought. The room was spinning. Rachel grabbed a seat behind Daniel's desk, and she propped her head up, and braced for the worst. She dry heaved, though nothing came up. Rachel then collapsed onto the desk. And when she did, her extended arm accidentally pressed on the keyboard. Daniel's desktop must have been on sleep mode. The moment a key stroke was detected, it sprang back to life. But that wasn't all. The speakers were on. And the study was suddenly filled with sensual moans, groans, grunts, and everything in between.

Rachel thought nothing of it. Men watched porn. It was nothing new. But when her vision finally came into focus, Rachel sobered up instantly. There, on the monitor, was an eight minute clip of Paul with his pants around his ankles, fucking some brunette whore on a copier.

A blast of rage reinvigorated Rachel's intoxicated being, as she shook from the core. Somebody had some explaining to do.

\- o -

The hospital was unusually quiet. When Cosima first got the call, she honestly thought she was being pranked. When she approached the reception area, and asked for directions to the emergency unit, the woman behind the desk kissed her teeth with such force and power, it could've blown out a window. Cosima wanted to ask her if she had broccoli stuck in her teeth, but held her tongue, in the interest of time. A few twist and turns later, Cosima was finally at her destination. When she pulled back the curtains to bed #4, she was in for a shocker.

"Holy shit, Donnie! What the fuck happened to your face?!"

Donnie Hendrix had a few open lacerations that required stitches. His left eye was slightly swollen, and so was his lips. He had extensive bruising on his torso. But unlucky for him, if you can call it that, he didn't break anything.

"A guy came up behind me in the parking lot, and he jumped me."

"Did you call the police?! And why isn't Alison here? Let me call her."

"No! Don't!" Donnie shouted, "I've already talked with the police. They think it might be related to a string of muggings on campus recently. They'll handle it. But I don't want Alison to worry. Not with everything that's been going on."

"Alison's not an idiot, Donnie. What are you going to tell her? You slipped and fell on glass, then got hit by a car? Cause that's what you look like."

"I'll tell her that we were at a bar, and a guy got handsy with you. And that we got into a bar fight."

Cosima was horribly confused, "What?! Why would you say that? That makes no sense. Why not just tell her the truth?"

"I can't! I don't want Alison to know that I was targeted because of my wealth. It's better for her to believe that this was a random act." Donnie pleaded, "Please, Cosima. I've never asked you for much, and you know that, but I'm begging you, just do this for me."

Donnie had always been there for her. He was the big brother she never had. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that Donnie was beaten black and blue, and shades of red, but for whatever reason, Cosima reluctantly agreed.

"Fine. You can tell Alison whatever it is you want, and I'll back you. But promise me, Donnie, that whatever this is, when you're ready, you'll talk to me."

"I will." Donnie meant it, "I promise."

Donnie loved Cosima. He wouldn't have involved her if it wasn't an absolute must. Under no circumstances can Alison find out, not until he rectified his mistakes. He wasn't about to let this go. He was not a cheater. And he most certainly didn't deserve this humiliation. This wasn't over.

\- o -

Paul couldn't aggravate Claire. And until she agreed to an abortion, and actually went through with it, he wasn't scot-free just yet. But it had to be done. Paul was going to end it with Claire tonight. He brought his cheque book. That's all this ever was: a transaction.

Paul knocked on the suite door.

The door came undone, "About time."

Paul got right to the point, "I don't think we should see each other anymore, Claire."

"Typical." Claire scoffed. "When it was convenient for you, it was fuck, fuck, fuck. But as soon as there's a bun in the oven, you instantly want to head for the hills."

"You can say whatever it is you want." Paul shrugged, "But I'm making my intentions known: I want nothing to do with you, or that child."

Paul opened his cheque book, and scribbled down a number he deemed fair. "That's yours if you agree to an abortion."

Claire gave the amount a once over. Paul was never stingy with his money. Whenever she wanted something, all she had to do was ask, and suck his dick, and that was it.

"Make it $300K, and we have a deal."

Paul's eyes thinned. That was a Hell of a lot of money. And Claire Hatcher was definitely not worth that sum. "Two-hundred, and not a penny more."

"You know, I never thought —"

The door flew open with a bang. It startled both Paul and Claire. And there, in the doorway, was Sarah Manning Black.

"Sarah?"

Sarah made a beeline for Claire, and without warning, socked her with a sucker punch.

Claire Hatcher went down like a tree.

"Stop it!" Paul pulled Sarah off, "Calm down!"

Sarah screamed, punched, kicked, and flailed in Paul's arms. "Let me go!"

"I can explain! Please, just hear me out!"

Sarah pulled out her cell phone. And there, on the screen, was a screen cap of Paul and Claire's indiscretion. Neither of their modesty was covered. "Explain this! Explain to me why your dick is in her twat! Did you slip, and fall into her fucking cunt?!"

Claire scrambled onto her feet, and she lunged at Sarah. She grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked it as hard as she could. "You stupid bitch! Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

Paul pulled Claire aside, and shoved her to the floor. "Don't you dare lay a hand on my wife!"

"What?! Now suddenly you're a dotting husband?! Well, guess what, Ms. Manning?! It's not a onetime fling. We've been going behind your back for three years now! I guess he liked my twat more than yours, huh."

Sarah's mouth was agape, as her eyes burned with tears. "What...what?"

"Please, listen to me, Sarah!" Paul pleaded, "She meant nothing to me. I didn't do this to hurt you."

"Oh, give your crocodile tears a rest, Paully." Claire rubbed the cheque in Sarah's nose, "You see this? Your husband's paying me for my silence. And you know what? I'm taking it. Cause you're all fucking cray-cray."

Sarah had never had her heartbroken, not like this. It felt like a vice grip had clamped down on her chest.

Paul got down on his knees, and he begged, "Please, Sarah. You have to believe me. I was going to end it with her. It's you that I love."

The pain was indescribable. Sarah wasn't thinking clearly. She wanted one thing, more so than anything else right now: she wanted Paul to hurt, like she was now.

"We can start again. We can seek counseling. Whatever it takes to make this work, I'll do it. I'll do anything to protect our family. Please, don't break us up."

Sarah was numb. She said, " Kira's not yours."

"What?"

"I said, Kira's not yours."

Paul didn't understand. And maybe on some level, he didn't want to understand.

\- o -

"Mr. Carlo. Menendez. How is our friend?"

"Alive and kicking."

"Good."

"He's lost everything. I got a couple of high priced loan sharks poaching him. When he takes up their offer, it's only a matter of time till he defaults on his payment."

"You can keep the money. I want the asset."

"Of course, Ms. Lang."

Kára Lang ended the call at that. Her plan was coming to fruition nicely. Now all that's left to do was for her to corrupt Cosima. But that might be easier said than done. Kára's jaw still ached from that sucker punch.

The limo stopped outside a detached house. And not long after, the door opened. It was Shay.

"What do you want now?"

"You owe me." Kára said matter of factly. "I want to recall that favor."

That was the one thing Shay dreaded hearing. She was indebted to Kára, and it was her debt to pay. But she didn't want to involve Cosima. And she most definitely did not like what Kára was asking her to do, and to Cosima of all people. It was wrong. Plain and simple.

"No."

"No? That's not what you said when I got you out of Nepal. Human trafficking is a serious crime. You could've been sentenced to life in prison, even for a Canadian citizen. You should thank baby Jesus for my generosity, for even extending you that helping hand. And now you have the audacity to decline me?"

"It's not human trafficking, and you know it!" Shay defended herself, "Those kids were going to be sold as sex slaves. I had to get them out of there, with whatever means necessary!"

"I didn't ask you for your life story." Kára replied coldly. "You owe me this. And I want it done."

"What you're asking me to do is irresponsible!" Shay chastised, "And it's considered rape!"

"Technicalities." Kára couldn't care less, "Set up the dinner. And do it."

The limo stopped outside the corporate head office of Black Crown Corp.

"This is my stop." Kára said to the driver, "Take Ms. Davydov home."

Kára walked past security and into the lobby. She pressed for the highest floor in the building. The doors parted, and the dim office greeted her. In her killer heels, Kára Lang made her way to Rachel Duncan Black's office.

The door was unlocked.

Kára entered the empty office.

And there, she sat in Rachel's chair, and she kicked her feet up.

Kára simply sat there, and she basked in the sensation of what it felt like to be CEO of Black Crown Corp. It won't be long now.

Cosima had ruined her life. Kára begged her not to press charges. She groveled beneath her feet, and she begged her. But Cosima didn't so much as acknowledge her presence. The humiliation Kára endured was the drive behind her sobriety. And now, it was time for payback.

Kára was out to ruin Cosima Niehaus Black. Anything and everything that Cosima held dear, Kára was going to obliterate. Nothing will be pardoned. And nobody will be spared.

\- o -

It was the beginning of October. And the weather in Toronto was already frigid.

Delphine waited inside her vehicle. Her car was parked atop a hill. There were already hikers and joggers out and about. It wasn't exactly discrete. But then again, there wasn't a need for discretion.

Soon, a black SUV pulled up beside Delphine's car.

Delphine exited her vehicle. As did the other party.

Delphine handed over an envelope. "I've copied Felix's hard drive, including his login information. That alone should grant you access to their books, including their servers."

"It's a good start, but on the record, their books are clean. I want concrete evidence of their embezzlement."

"You make me sick." Delphine said candidly, "You're tearing their family apart. Because in your eyes, they're already guilty. You have a sick and perverted sense of justice, you know that?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you actually care for Felix?"

Delphine's hard face, and cold eyes, gave nothing away.

"Well, either way, you don't have a choice, now do you, Delphine?"

Delphine exhaled. "I need more time."

"And you'll have it. Consider this a sign of good faith." The man handed Delphine a thick binder. "That's a portion of the evidence we've amassed."

Delphine had no idea it was this bad.

"But until I get what I want, you won't get what you truly desire."

And with that, the man got back into his SUV. But not before Delphine left him with a few choice words.

"Oh, and Art?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't you dare go near my mother again."

\- o -

 **A/N: Drop a review.**


	9. Chapter 9: Judas (30 Pieces of Silver)

**CH 9: Judas (30 Pieces of Silver)**

The sun hasn't even broken and yet, Paul was already in his trailer. He drowned himself in his work. He practically signed off on everything, though he didn't take in a single word. At this point, his body was on autopilot. He hasn't seen or spoken to Sarah since the fight. Paul continued down this rabbit hole until every last document in his tray was processed. And with nothing more to do, and nowhere else to go, Paul began thinking. And that did not end well. He couldn't get over the fact that Sarah had lied to him, for eight fucking years!

A knock sounded at the door. It was Manny.

"Hey, Paul." Manny handed him a file, "The concrete bricks that we're using, are they by any chance made from recycled materials?"

"I don't know." Paul said flatly. "Why?"

"We randomly selected a few for quality assurance purposes. And each and every single one of them failed the inspection. They might as well be fucking Lego bricks. They couldn't even withstand a compressive pressure of 4000 psi; the minimum safety requirement needed."

Paul grabbed the file, and said, "I'll handle it, Emmanuel."

"You're not listening, Paul, this is serious. We can't —"

"I said I'll fucking handle it!" Paul screamed, "Now get out!"

Manny didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled to get out the door.

Paul shot up, and he flipped his desk over in a fit of rage. He kicked, punched, and stomped on everything within his warpath.

Paul stood there, with his fist balled, and he trembled violently. Sarah Manning Black had made a fool out of him!

Paul grabbed his car keys, and shot out the trailer.

\- o -

"The money was just wired. You'll receive a notification momentarily."

"Excellent news indeed, Mr. Rosen." Ethan Wang said ecstatically, "Like I said, easy money."

"We'll speak soon."

The call disconnected..

Daniel could not be more pleased. And Ethan Wang was definitely worth every penny; no wonder he came so highly recommended. Phase One of the Emerald City project was near completion, and Phase Two was set to commence within the coming weeks. In this calendar year alone, Daniel had managed to siphon $800,000 from the project by simply swapping out the brand name materials for generic brands. And like Ethan Wang said, they weren't cutting corners, by any means.

The moment the funding had cleared, and was safely in his pockets, the first thing Daniel did was reinvest it in the form of bearer bond. It was his best option. The money couldn't be traced, and it afforded him anonymity. There was $800,000 worth of bearer bonds sitting in a safety deposit box in TD Canada. It wasn't under his name, of course. He was smarter than that. Or at least, he liked to think so.

If he knew just how lucrative this endeavor was, he would've dipped his hand in the cookie jar much sooner. But there was no point dwelling on the past. If the Emerald City project goes off without a hitch, Daniel was certain he'll have many more opportunities to manage several more of Black Crown Corp.'s upcoming projects. Patience was a virtue, and it was a virtue he possessed.

Daniel was in a good mood, but all that changed when he entered his office, and there, seated comfortably in his chair, was Rachel. "Honey. What's wrong?"

Rachel threw the USB down.

Daniel's eyes widened in disbelief. "Where did you get that?"

Rachel asked pointedly, "Why the fuck do you have all these videos of Paul?"

Daniel inhaled sharply, and he lied through his teeth; it was one of his greatest talents. "It's not what you think. Let me explain. One of the security guards that worked here had been recording Paul's indiscretions. The footage was pretty damning. And he essentially wanted to blackmail Black Crown Corp. with it. I took the initiative and I bought the raw footage."

Rachel's lips thinned, and her nostrils flared. "Where's this guard now?"

"In the Maldives somewhere."

"Why did you hide this from me, Daniel?" Rachel asked, "Have you forgotten that I am your wife?"

Daniel pleaded, "Look, honey, I handled the situation the best way I saw fit. And there was no point telling you, because, well, it's none of our business."

"Bullshit!" Rachel barked, "That's my sister Paul is cheating on. Of course I have the right to know!"

"No. This is between Sarah and Paul. If I had told you about this, you've confronted Paul, and then what? Do you really want Kira to grow up as a child of divorce?"

Rachel wasn't pleased.

"I've already spoken to Paul. He'll sit down, and he'll tell Sarah the truth. But on their own terms. Not ours. It's their marriage. Let them handle it." Daniel grabbed the USB, "I never intended for you to see this. And I would've destroyed it, too, but only after Sarah and Paul have had their talk."

Rachel's expression lightened, but only slightly. "Do not go behind my back again, Daniel. I do not appreciate it."

Daniel pulled his wife in, and he kissed her on the lips, "I'm sorry, dear. It won't happen again."

Rachel grabbed the USB, "I'm keeping this."

And with that, Rachel exited his office.

When that door closed, Daniel practically keeled over. He's had his fair share of lies, but never has he ever managed to come up with such an elaborate lie on the spot like that before.

\- o -

Daniel's explanation was thin, at best. Rachel had her suspicions, but she'll have to speak with Sarah first, before she jumped to any conclusions. When Rachel got back to her own office, there was a surprise guest awaiting her. Rachel hasn't seen her youngest sister in weeks. At first glance, Rachel noticed that Cosima was visibly thinner.

Cosima fidgeted with her glasses. Rachel could tell she was nervous, so she gave her a break, and decided to break the first word. "I owe you an apology, Cosima. I should've never gone behind your back, and accepted Kára Lang's proposal. I hurt you, and for that, I'm sorry."

"No." Cosima exhaled heavily, "I'm sorry I made you make those hard choices, and then blame you for them. You did what you thought was best for the company. And I totally understand that, Rach, I just wished it wasn't her. Not after what she did, to me."

Cosima's words struck a chord with Rachel.

"I know it isn't easy to be CEO. Mother would be so proud of you, Rach, if she knew the wonders you were doing with the company." Cosima smiled weakly, "Sometimes it really does pay to the rut of the litter, huh?"

The two sisters had cleared the air, and their ill feelings cast aside. In the end, they were sisters; and blood was always thicker than water.

Cosima suggested, "I think we should hug it out."

And they did.

"You know, you've still got to make nice with Sarah."

"I know. And I will. Will you come back?" Rachel asked. "The house just hasn't been the same without you around."

"There's no place like home." Cosima grinned. "But I'm meeting Shay for dinner later tonight. I'll most likely crash at her place afterwards. But don't change the locks. I'll be back."

For the first time in a long while, Rachel genuinely smiled.

"Oh, and Cosima, before I forget."

"Yeah?"

"Very funny. But don't mess with my chair setting again. You know I don't like it when people touch my stuff."

Cosima furrowed her brows, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Rach."

"Sure you don't."

Now that Rachel has settled things with Cosima, she could rest a bit easier. She inspected the tiny USB stick. Then there was still the matter of Sarah and Paul.

\- o -

The moment Cosima hauled Donnie's broken ass home, and Alison first laid eyes on her husband, her eyeballs practically dislodged from its socket. Alison could not believe her eyes; neither could the rest of the family. Donnie stuck with his cover story, and with Cosima there to back him up, they didn't pester him too much about the details of the assault. Thank God for that.

The doctors didn't want to discharge Donnie, but he left anyways, against medical advice. They prescribed him Fentanyl, to be administered every other day, to help ease the pain. And plenty of bed rest, too. And that's exactly what he's been doing since. Donnie was in pain, but it didn't hinder his mobility, but Alison wasn't having any of it. She was at his beck and call. Alison did everything within her power to keep Donnie off his feet. Alison was a good wife. Donnie could tell she was concerned, and it pained him to see her like that.

Donnie swore on all that is Holy, that if he should ever dig himself out of the hole he's in now, he'll give up gambling all together. In some ways, the beating was a wakeup call. But be that as it may, he still needed to right his wrongs. Donnie didn't want to lose Alison, and that's exactly what will happen if she ever found out that he emptied all their savings. They weren't strapped for cash, but the amount that he lost, it was a huge chunk of change; it was nothing to scoff about.

But Donnie had a plan. It wasn't perfect, but it was worth a shot. It's the only shot he's got, and he was going to take it.

It was midday, and nobody else was home. Alison had taken time off from work to care for him. Donnie purposefully withheld a prescription, and it was the perfect time to enact this plan.

"Honey!"

"What's wrong?"

Donnie handed her the doctor's note. "It's my prescription for Codeine. I must have forgotten about it."

"Oh." Alison thought nothing of it. "Do you need it now?"

"Yeah. The doctor said I should take it with my Fentanyl, when the pain becomes intolerable." Donnie put on a show, and he squirmed in pain. "My lower back is killing me right now."

"Alright. Give me half an hour, and I'll pick this up for you."

"Thank you."

Donnie's lips were still swollen, so Alison kissed his forehead instead. "I'll be right back."

Alison didn't leave for another fifteen minutes. And even then, Donnie waited several minutes afterwards, until he was certain she was gone.

Donnie grabbed his crutches, and he hobbled down the hallway to Alison's office.

There, in the corner, on the bookshelf, was a fire-resistant safe. It was small. It wasn't anything impressive, but it did the job. The safe held no money, only original copies of legal documentations. With one free hand, Donnie turned the dial one full circle to the right, and then two full circles to the left, and lastly, he stopped the dial on the last digit. The combination was their wedding date.

Donnie pulled out a stack of papers, and began to rummage through each and every single one, until he found what he was looking for. It wasn't hard. He knew for a fact that Alison kept it here. When he got what he needed, he stuffed everything back in, and secured the safe.

Donnie stuffed the document in his drawer. Then he picked up his phone, and he made a call.

\- o -

Delphine hasn't been home in ages. Although at this point, she didn't know where home was exactly, given her situation. She grew up in Longueuil, Quebec. A lot of her extended family were still there. But that's not where she was headed. After her meet up with Arthur Bell, Delphine took a personal day, and she drove eight hour to Burlington, Vermont. That's where her mother resided, after a coup within the board had forced her to vacate her position, in light of what happened.

The house was grand and prestigious, though it held no sentimental value to her. Delphine missed her mother, dearly, though she doubt her mother will share the same sentiment.

Delphine found her mother in her study. She was painting.

"Hello, mother."

"Oh, Delphine. What a pleasant surprise."

Évelyne Marie Léa Cormier was a woman well into her seventies, though she didn't look a day older than fifty. The air that surrounded her, and the way she spoke, it exuded confidence.

Delphine hasn't seen her mother in more than a year's time, though she hasn't changed much. For one thing, her arrogance hasn't softened one bit. She's still going about her life, like everything was rainbows and butterflies, and freaking unicorns.

"When you stepped away from the business, and I asked you how bad it was, you looked me in the eyes, and you lied to me."

Évelyne gave a light shrug, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Delphine threw down a thick binder; it was the one Arthur Bell had given her. "This, mother! You're really going to sit there, and continue your bald-faced lie? I had the displeasure of going through that, and you're up to your eyeballs in shit! The SEC has you down for embezzlement, bookmaking, insider trading, and the list goes on! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Évelyne snapped, "Do not use that language on me!"

Delphine threw her head back and scoffed, "This was a mistake. I should've never agreed to work for the SEC. I should've never agreed to help your sorry ass. I should've let you crash and burn."

"A bit melodramatic today, are we?"

"You ungrateful cunt!" Delphine spat, "I've sacrificed my career, my name, my body, and my life, just so I can keep your haggard ass out of jail, and that's all you have to say to me?! I am out there, and I am destroying people's lives with my lies! I am tearing their family apart. I can't even tell the woman I like, that I like her, because everything there is about me is a God damn lie! And all because I chose to save you! You've ruined your own life. And you have so much poison in you, mother, that you've ruined mine, too."

In a calm and collected manner, Évelyne said, "I never put a gun to your head, Delphine. Everything you did, you did on your own accord. So please, stop your petulant whining."

The scornful look on Delphine just about said it all. "The day you left daddy for that man, you stopped being my mother. I was just too fucking naïve to see it."

"Your father was the one that gave you a share in the business, sweetie. If you have anyone to blame, blame him."

Delphine was repulsed by her own flesh and blood. "You were his wife. He trusted you. And all you ever did was steal from him."

"Just remember this: if I sink, you sink with me." Évelyne cupped Delphine's face, and kissed her on both cheeks. "You'll have to excuse me now. You can show yourself out."

That poisonous woman was her mother.

Delphine was suffocating; the burden of guilt was much too heavy.

This was so wrong, on so many levels.

\- o -

The Corvette swerved to the far left, and for more than thirty seconds, drove in the oncoming traffic lane. The point of the dangerous maneuver was so Paul could overtake the cars in front of him. There were only two lanes. And both vehicles were going below the speed limit. Paul didn't have time for their granny-style driving. The risk was not worth the gain. It could all end disastrously for him, but in his tipsy mind, he couldn't care less.

Paul was still in the wrong lane. But once his car had overtaken the two vehicles, without so much as a warning, or a turn signal, Paul flipped the bird, and cut across the two lanes, and threw a sharp right turn. The two cars slammed their brakes and just barely avoided the Corvette Stingray. The chain effect was instantaneous: multiple vehicles collided with each other. There were more than ten vehicles affected in that one pile up.

The day had come and gone, and Paul's emotions had gone on a roller coaster ride from Hell. But the day wasn't over yet. The Corvette Stingray pulled into the private driveway with a halting screech. And there, on the front lawn, were three unmistakable suitcases. At the sight of that, Paul's rage had piqued; it reached its boiling point.

The locks hasn't been changed yet. Paul bolted up the stairs, and made a beeline for his bedroom in the east wing. He found Sarah in the walk-in closet.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"I want you gone."

"You hypocritical bitch! You cheated on me, just as much as I cheated on you, and you have the audacity to throw me out?!"

Sarah said nothing.

"Oh, but wait. I forgot. You're worse than I am. You hear me?! Worse!" Paul got physical, and he made Sarah look him in the eyes. "You had me raise another man's child, thinking that she was mine! For eight years!"

Sarah didn't back down. She repeated herself, "I want you gone!"

"Who?!" Paul screamed, "I want to know who!"

"No."

"Who was he?! Look me in the eyes, and say his fucking name!"

Sarah didn't want to do this. She slapped his hand away, and made for the door.

"We're not done! Get back here!" Paul laid his hands on Sarah, and he violently shoved her against the dresser. "WHO?! SAY HIS NAME!"

"NO!"

"You whore!"

With no hesitation nor guilt, Paul punched Sarah in the stomach.

Sarah dropped to her knees. She kneeled there, with a sick to her stomach sensation, and she dry heaved.

"WHO?! SAY IT!"

Sarah couldn't so much as breathe, much less talk.

Paul then grabbed Sarah by her thick locks, and he bashed her head against the same dresser, again and again, and again. And through it all, he kept yelling, "WHO?!"

"STOP IT!" From the doorway came a terrified Kira. She overheard her parents yelling from down the hallway, and what she saw in the closet frightened her. "You're hurting her!"

Paul stopped his assault, though he didn't relent. "This is your last chance to come clean. Just tell me his name. You owe it to me! Say it!"

Sarah laid there, unresponsive.

Paul raised his fist, and was ready to strike.

"Daddy!"

At that exact moment, Kira jumped in front of Paul, and she used her own body to shield Sarah's. Paul wanted to bring his fist down, and strike Kira. And he would have, too, if not for the little girl crying out for her daddy. Paul froze at the sight of Kira, balling her eyes out for her daddy to stop hurting her mommy. Kira was different; it wasn't anything he's ever seen before. She was scared of him. His daughter of eight years, the girl whom he raised as a baby, had fear in her eyes when she saw her daddy.

Paul muffled a sob in his bloodied hands. He turned, and he ran as fast and far as he could, away from his child, and his wife.

Kira sat there with an unconscious Sarah, and she cried hysterically.

But then a familiar sound caught the girl's ear. It was her mother's phone. It was in her back pocket. Kira recognized the picture on the caller ID, and she picked up immediately.

"Auntie Rachel! Help!"

\- o -

Life isn't perfect. Too much has happened lately, and Cosima found herself struggling to stay afloat amidst quicksand. She couldn't even count the number of things that was wrong with her life right now, and that included the kiss she shared with Delphine; her sister-in-law. It did not slip Cosima's mind. And since that kiss, she hasn't seen the blonde. Nor could she stop replaying it in her head. And the worst thing about that kiss? It felt right. Cosima knew it was wrong. It felt wrong, too. But it also felt so right.

Cosima needed a distraction. And that's where Shay came in. Shay called her up, and insisted they meet for dinner. She was specific about the time and date. She didn't say why, but then again, Shay was eccentric like that.

The dinner was enjoyable. It gave Cosima a chance to wind down, and just be herself. When she was with Shay, she could be herself, and not the Cosima Niehaus Black that everyone knew, and expected her to be.

"You know, when you invite someone to dinner, they don't usually have this sullen look on their face." Cosima said observantly. "You haven't even touched your food. I mean, it's not Michelin star, but it's not that bad."

Shay lost her appetite. This was one of the hardest thing she's ever had to do. She didn't want to. She really didn't. But Kára Lang has that effect on you. With her, you never have a choice. And this was one of those instances. They were halfway through dinner. The dosage was small. And the effect wasn't immediate. It was now, or never.

"I'm going to grab a drink. Would you like something from the bar?"

"Just grab a waiter. They'll bring it for you."

"No." Shay said nonchalantly, "I want to speak with the bartender. You want anything?"

Cosima thought for a moment, with the fork still in her mouth. "I don't feel like anything. But whatever it is you're having, I'll have one, too."

"Okay."

Shay ordered two Disaronno and coke, with lemon, on the rocks. It was her favorite drink. It wasn't nearly strong enough for her taste, but the amaretto liquor would help mask the aftertaste of the pill. It wasn't a difficult drink to mix. The bartender served up the drinks in no time.

When no one was looking, Shay dropped a single pill into the right glass. The pill immediately began to fizzle and dissolve. Shay gave the glass a light swirl, to evenly mask the bubbles. It was a low dosage of Flunitrazepam, or as it's more commonly known as, Rohypnol. Rohypnol is often prescribed as a sedative. It was also a feared date rape drug for girls.

Shay made her way back to the table, and she purposely handed Cosima the drink on the right.

"Cheers."

Cosima raised her glass, "Cheers."

Shay watched behind her own glass, as Cosima consumed a mouthful of the spiked beverage.

"Woah. That's good. A bit tangy, but good."

Cosima went for seconds, and practically drained the glass.

Shay made a mental note of the time, and began a countdown timer in her head.

When they finally emerged from the restaurant, Cosima was noticeably wobbly in her steps. She thought she was tipsy, but Shay knew better.

"I only had that one drink. And I feel like I'm drunk already.

Shay held Cosima steady. "I don't think you should drive. Come on, let's grab a taxi."

Cosima attempted to shake the blurriness from her vision. And that's when a sense of hardened déjà vu hit her. This sensation, it was all too familiar. The realization came hurling back to her. At the masquerade party, when she was drugged with GHB. This was the exact same sensation!

Cosima had to tell Shay. She wanted to tell Shay to call 9-1-1. But she couldn't. She was on the verge of unconsciousness; her limbs were heavier than dead weights.

A car honked its horn at them. "Need a ride?"

Even in the semi-conscious state she was in, Cosima recognized that voice. It was Kára Lang.

"Let's go, Cosima." Shay eased her into the awaiting car. "Get in."

Cosima wanted to protest. She desperately wanted to voice her objection. But she couldn't. She couldn't do a single thing.

The door slammed shut.

Cosima's head was on Shay's shoulder. She was barely conscious. The last thing she remembered was Kára Lang, with her head turned around. And she said, "Hello, Cosima."

This time, Delphine wasn't there to save her.

\- o -

 **A/N: Take a penny, leave a penny.**


	10. Chapter 10: The Monsters Within

**CH 10: The Monsters Within**

Daniel was ready to pack up, and call it a day. He spent the day with Felix at the Emerald City sales center. The public's reaction to the project has been overwhelming. It exceeded their every expectation. The housing market in the City of Toronto was hot. The demand far exceeded the supply, which in turn caused a spike in pricing. Many of the younger generations simply couldn't afford the suburban house with the white picket fence, but what they could afford was a condo apartment, and that's exactly what they were offering.

Many first time buyers welcomed the chance to purchase an affordable condo, at a fraction of the price for a detached house. If there's one thing Black Crown Corp. does well, it was their market research. It's only been a week since the pre-sale release, and they were already thirty-percent sold out. At the rate they're going now, they'll most likely sell out by the end of the month. With Kára Lang's seed investment, and now the revenue generated from the pre-sale, Emerald City was destined for greatness. And it didn't hurt that Daniel's wallet was getting fatter by the second, either.

Daniel grabbed his jacket, and his keys.

There came a knock.

"Come in."

"Mr. Rosen."

Daniel recognized the gentleman right away. It was Manny Arrastía. He was the assistant safety supervisor of the Emerald City project. Daniel had met the man a handful of times. Though they had a working relationship, it's the first time Daniel's ever met Manny off site, and at Black Crown Corp.'s head office, of all places.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, Mr. Rosen, but I would like a moment of your time."

Daniel could already tell he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "Please, Manny, have a seat."

"I'll stand. Thank you."

"What can I do for you?"

"I've recently conducted a quality assurance check on the concrete bricks we're using for Emerald City. I suspect they're made from recycled debris and fillers, as opposed to hard rock. In all twelve of those inspections, they've failed QA. The concrete bricks are crucial, for they reinforce the foundation of the structure. If the concrete is below par, such as they are in this case, they won't be able to transfer the load from the structure to the ground, and the foundation will give way. This is serious, Mr. Rosen, and that's why I've brought it to your attention."

"Have you brought this up with Paul?"

"I have."

"And what did he say?"

"He said he'll handle it." Manny explained, "But you don't understand, Mr. Rosen, Paul's not been himself lately. And quite honestly, I have a legal obligation to write up any safety citations that I feel don't meet the Building Infrastructure Safety Code."

Daniel held up his hand, "I've heard enough, Mr. Arrastía. I appreciate your concern, and your diligence in the matter, but it's uncalled for. I have the utmost faith in Paul's ability to supervise the site. Let's not forget that he's been doing this his whole life. He's far more experienced than you give him credit for. And I trust his better judgement."

"But —"

"If you bring this up again, Mr. Arrastía, you will not only find yourself out of a job, but with a libel suit lodged against you for slander. I will not sit idly by, and have you taint the reputation of Black Crown Corp. with such baseless accusations of negligence."

"I see. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Rosen."

"Thank you."

And with that, the matter was settled.

Daniel didn't care what Manny Arrastía had to say. He's had a taste of the good life, and he wasn't going back. Besides, that's what Paul Dierden was for.

His cell phone rang. He didn't want to pick up. But the caller ID indicated it was his lovely wife. And that was never a good thing.

\- o -

The club was roaring with life, as the lights swirled, the music boomed, and the people danced. They had a VIP booth up front, near the sound stage. Security guarded the entrance, as the area was private, and entry was privy to invites only.

The group of three men were accompanied by plenty of women, though they weren't on a first name basis.

"One, two, three!"

They raised their shot glass, tapped the table, and downed the shot in one gulp.

"Ugh!"

"Woah!" Colin screamed, "Jesus! That fucking burns."

Since Felix's been back from his hiatus, he's been out almost every other night. He missed his family, dearly, but he missed his friends, and his bachelorhood lifestyle, even more so. Felix loved Delphine. And he loved everything she, and married life, had to offer. But the transition was not without hardship. For one thing, Felix missed the party, the madness, and most certainly of all, his freedom. And that's exactly how he ended up here. His name and his money afforded him a lifestyle, a lifestyle Delphine couldn't fulfill, though Felix had no intention of leaving her, not for one second. The way he saw it, he could have the best of both worlds.

Felix threw back another shot; his fifth one this evening. And he chased it down with a sip of orange juice.

"Come on, Fee, you can't tell me you don't miss this." Brent took a swig of beer, "Cause if you tell me otherwise, you're a fucking liar."

"I do miss it, but nothing's changed. I am here, aren't I?"

"I can't believe you got fucking married, dude. It's the stupidest thing you can do." Colin gave the brunette's breast a squeeze, to demonstrate a point, "This is the sweet life, right here. Why would you willingly let yourself be tied to a ball and chain?"

"Actually, Delphine was the one that proposed to me."

Brent's mouth dropped, "She did not!"

"Yeah. She did."

"And you said yes?! That just screams desperation! Tick tock. My ovaries are drying up."

"I don't find it desperate, at all. In fact, it was pretty romantic."

"Lame."

"It's nice to have someone to share everything with. And when you have that anchor in your life, it makes you feel grounded. It makes everything you do substantially more meaningful. Not everything is about boozing and bed hopping, guys. And when you do find that special someone, you'll give this all up in a heartbeat."

Both Colin and Brent exchanged a look, and they burst out laughing.

"Fucking Hell, Felix, I didn't realize you swallowed a copy of 'Eat, Pray, Love'."

"You guys are fucking arseholes." Felix threw down another shot. "And I fucking love you for it."

"That's the spirit!"

The music was deafening, to the point where you had to shout to hear one another. Felix didn't hear his phone ring, but he most certainly felt it vibrate.

It was Alison.

Felix picked up. He couldn't hear her, not clearly, but he did catch many of the key words, and that was enough to sober him up. It was an emergency; Sarah was in the hospital.

"I have to go."

"Already?" Colin objected, "But Drake hasn't even performed yet."

Felix didn't care. He cut through the sea of bodies, and shot straight out the door. He was already tipsy from all the drinks he's had, but he was by no means drunk. It's not the first time he's driven tipsy before either. And besides, the hospital was only a fifteen minute drive. Felix convinced himself that he'll be fine. The cool night air tickled his chest as he filled his lungs. He took several deep breaths to clear his head. When he felt he was ready, Felix got in his Mercedes AMG GT, and he peeled out of the parking lot.

The AMG GT could do zero to sixty in 3.3 seconds. But Felix had no intention of doing that. He drove well within the speed limit, as not to draw any unwanted attention from the authorities. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over. He wasn't drunk. But Felix was certain he wasn't within the legal limits to drive.

The lights turned yellow, and already, Felix pressed on the brakes, and brought the car to a gentle halt. While he waited, Felix assessed the area, and gave the street a good hard look. He even gave the car next to him a quick glance. And when drew his gaze up front again, unbeknownst to him, the lights had turned green already. Felix pressed on the gas, and the car sped off.

What Felix didn't realize was the green light was from the traffic light over at the next stop. His vision had betrayed him. The light was still red when he ran through the intersection. By the time Felix realized the grave error of his mistake, it was already too late. His midnight blue car had plowed into two crossing pedestrians. One of the bodies flew into oncoming traffic. The other body rolled onto the windshield, and shattered it into obliteration.

Felix screamed as he swerved the car to the far right. The sport car careened off the road, and onto the sidewalk. The car didn't stop till it smashed through the window of a dainty café.

The airbags deployed, and it knocked Felix out cold.

The last thing that registered was a bloody scream.

\- o -

"Hi. You've reached the voicemail of Donnie Hendrix. I'm not available to take your call right now. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks. And have a great day."

\- o -

They were crowded in a private room.

Sarah was rushed to the emergency room via ambulance. After hours and countless scans and diagnostics, the attending ER physician downgraded Sarah's condition from critical to fair. Her vital signs were stable and within normal limits. A chest x-ray determined that Sarah had hairline fractures to her first and second rib. And that in turn caused a bit of swelling in her chest cavity. The doctors suspect she has a mild concussion as well, and were keeping a close eye on her intracranial pressure. Thankfully, the prognosis was bright. But that was about the only thing that was bright.

The room was somber. Alison, Rachel, Kira, and Daniel were by Sarah's bedside. The other half of the Black family were missing; that included: Cosima, Donnie, Delphine, and most definitely Paul. Alison's eyes were red and swollen, from all the crying she did. Rachel did not shed one tear, for she knew crying wasn't the answer; it wouldn't help the situation. Rachel rested on the couch, and she held Kira in her arms.

On the outside, Rachel Duncan Black may appear cold and ruthless, that valued her work above all else. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. To Rachel, her family meant everything to her, though it may not seem like it at times. She was the eldest of all the Black children. And she was protective of her siblings. She felt incredibly guilty for not being there to protect Cosima, when Kára Lang viciously assaulted her in a fit of drug-induced rage. Even after all these years, that burden of guilt hadn't lessened, which was why she let Cosima get away with so much. And now, she's failed Sarah, too. She wasn't there to protect her. If anything happened to her, she would never forgive herself. The last thing they said to each other was said from a place of hatred and anger.

"Are you crying, Auntie Rachel?"

Rachel's eyes were brimming with emotions, but she refused to shed a tear. Instead, she pulled Kira in and kissed her. "I'm just glad you and your mommy are okay."

"What about daddy?"

Alison's temper flared at the mere mention of Paul, "I'll break his legs if he dares come near you, or Sarah."

Kira said nothing, nor did she know what to say.

Daniel finished his call, and rejoined the group. He handed Rachel a card, with an address written on the back. "You were right."

Rachel read the address, and said, "I have to go."

"Do you want me to come with you."

"No. I want you here with Alison and Kira. I want to know that they're taken care of while I'm away."

Daniel understood completely; it was one of the qualities he admired about Rachel.

Rachel kissed Kira one last time, "You be good for Alison and Daniel, okay, monkey?"

Alison knew exactly where Rachel was going, yet she made no effort to stop her.

\- o -

The cell phone was on the floor, broken into tens of tiny pieces.

"Please, don't make me. I don't want to."

"We're not making you do anything, Mr. Hendrix. This is your own doing. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"Please..."

"Either you sign it, or my boys will pay a visit to that pretty wife of yours. I've never said no to a tight piece of ass before. I don't see why I would start now."

"Don't you dare fucking touch her, you piece of shit!"

"Then sign it!"

Donnie held the pen in his quivering hand. He couldn't steady himself, no matter how hard he tried.

"Do not make me ask you again."

With a heavy conscience, Donnie waved the pen, and did as he said.

"Excellent."

The moment he signed on that dotted line, Donnie knew he lost soul, but more importantly, he knew he had lost Alison forever.

There was no coming back from this. None, whatsoever.

\- o -

The presidential suite sat on the highest floor of this particular hotel. Black Crown Corp. owned many commercial properties, but this place was special. This was one of Paul's earliest projects since he joined the company. And it was the first place that came to mind when he needed a place to lay low.

Paul had both his hands submerged in an ice bucket. His knuckles were bruised and swollen. It's been hours since his confrontation with Sarah, and since then, the alcohol has worn off, and his clarity returned. Frame by frame, Paul replayed the scene over and over again, and the more he did, the more he rued his actions. What he did was inexcusable. Though Sarah was in the wrong, he never, ever, should have laid hands on her, not like that, and most certainly not in front of Kira.

Paul yearned to know how Sarah was doing. But he was too weak to check up on her. There was no other way to describe it: he felt undone. His life was in shambles, and he didn't know what to do about it. He's lost his wife, his daughter, his family, and now, his own self respect. There was nothing left. Or so he thought.

A knock sounded at the door.

Paul paid it no mind.

"Mr. Dierden."

It was followed by several more knocks.

"Mr. Dierden. Either you open this door, or we break it down."

Begrudgingly, Paul complied. He recognized the uniform through the peephole. It was hotel security. Paul undid the dead bolt, and opened the door.

"Mr. Dierden. The Metro Toronto Police would like to have a few words with you. They've asked us to escort you downstairs."

Paul knew this was coming. He didn't run from it. He was going to face this, and accept responsibility for his actions. And hopefully, somehow, someway, that would be enough to make amends down the road.

Three security guards escorted Paul into an elevator, and they took him down to the underground parking lot.

Paul thought nothing of it. He thought there was a police cruiser on standby, ready to transport him to a precinct. But he was wrong. The guards took him to a secluded area. The space was devoid of any vehicles, except one. And all the exit points had been blocked off. He didn't know what to make of this.

"I thought you said the police —"

A car door opened, and it slammed shut.

"Rachel?"

Paul stopped dead in his tracks. Something was wrong. Rachel was in street clothes, and a pair of runners; that was the first giveaway. And if that wasn't enough, the fact that she made up an elaborate lie, just so she could lure him here, was another dead giveaway.

Rachel popped the trunk, and from it, she retrieved a bat. It was a 33" adult wood baseball bat; it was the best she could get on such a short notice.

"Rachel." Paul pleaded, "Please, hear me out."

Rachel heard nothing. She charged at Paul with long strides, and ferocious strikes. She struck him indeterminately. At this point, it didn't matter where the bat landed, as long as it landed. Rachel was merciless in her assault. The bat ravaged away at Paul's defense. It struck him, again and again, and again.

Paul did his best to shield himself from the repeated blows, but his efforts were futile. He took a savage beating; one of the worst in his life. And when he could no longer intelligibly defend himself, he was reduced to a ball on the floor, in a fetal position as he used whatever means to shield his head.

Mere minutes seemed like an eternity. Eventually, winded and tired, Rachel ceased her assault to catch a much needed breather.

It was now or never. When the flurry of blows had finally stopped, Paul used the window of opportunity to scramble to his feet, and make a break for it. He ran for the nearest fire exit, but the guards there wouldn't budge. And when he tried to barge through them, one guard held him down, while the other kicked him in the face.

Paul was on his knees when Rachel caught up with him, and she nailed him right in the chest. The bat made a sickly sound when it came in contact with his collarbone.

"Please..."

Rachel nudged him onto his back, and she kept him there with a firm foot. "The only reason you're alive and breathing, is because Sarah is alive and breathing."

Paul gasped for desperate breaths, "Please, Rachel. You...have to believe me. I...I didn't mean to... hurt her."

Rachel didn't believe him. Not for once second. She raised the bat high above her head, and with nothing but deadly precision, she smashed Paul's left kneecap.

The lot was no longer empty. It was filled with the reverberation of Paul's blood curdling screams.

"That's for cheating on Sarah!"

The bat came down again, only this time, it was Paul's right kneecap.

"That's for laying your filthy hands on my sister!"

And lastly, with the butt of her bat, Rachel wound her arms back and she smashed his nose in. The cartilage made a nauseating cracking sound. And soon, it was replaced with violent gurgles, as blood overfilled his airway.

"That's for being a piece of shit."

Paul laid there, in a pool of his own blood, as he struggled to breathe.

With her foot, Rachel rolled Paul onto his side, so he didn't choke to death.

Rachel handed the bloodied bat to one of the guards, and said, "Make sure he doesn't fucking die."

\- o -

The sun broke at the crack of dawn. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky.

The bright sunlight kissed her face, and it roused Cosima from the clutches of her uneventful sleep. Cosima laid there, and she blinked several times to rid the blur from her vision. It took her longer than usual to realize the blurriness was due in part to the fact that she didn't have her glasses. Cosima swept her hands blindly, in every direction, until her hand came upon the nightstand, and with it, her prescription lenses.

Cosima was certain she was lying still, but the room around her was spinning endlessly. And then there was her head. It was throbbing with an intense pulse; every pulsate felt like a hammer to a nail. It was every bit as maddening as it was painful.

"Good morning."

Cosima's dull reaction couldn't even bother to be startled by the sound of another voice, or the presence of another being, entirely. With much difficulty, and extraordinary effort, Cosima propped herself up. And there, at the foot of the bed with a cup of steaming hot tea, was Kára Lang, in the flesh.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Last time I checked, this was my townhouse."

It was true. And that's when Cosima finally noticed the foreign room she was in. This wasn't her bed. And this was most certainly not her place. It took a bit of time, but eventually, Cosima connected the dots. In a state of severe panic, Cosima threw the covers back. And to her relief, she was fully clothed, but not in her own clothes, though.

"Your clothes were soiled, so I gave you a fresh change. I hope you don't mind."

Cosima grabbed her head, as the throbbing intensified with every passing second. "How long was I out for?"

"Almost eighteen hours."

"Eighteen hours?!" Was Cosima's incredulous response. "What the fuck?!"

"The bathroom's over there." Kára pointed out, "Go wash up. And I'll explain later."

It wasn't a half bad idea. Cosima needed to wash the grogginess away. She eyed Kára Lang one last time, before she threw her legs over, and made the dreadful trek across the room. Cosima ran the tap, and she washed away the sickliness. The sensation was refreshing. And it energized her.

Cosima put her glasses back on, as she stared at her own reflection. She looked sickly. Cosima went to use the toilet, but before she could, something caught her eye. By the toilet bowl, were red droplets of what appeared to be blood. The blood had oxidized and was flakey to the touch. She followed the trail, and she found more of it on the side of the tub.

Cosima threw the shower curtains back. And she screamed at the top of her fucking lungs!

Shay was in the bath tub. And there, on the side of her neck, was a cavernous wound. The gash was so profound, it looked like a chunk of her neck was missing. Shay was pale and lifeless. Her eyes were open, and glazed over.

It was unmistakable. Shay was dead.

When Cosima couldn't scream anymore, she simply stood there, unable to think, nor speak, nor react.

Kára leaned against the door frame, and said, "What? Don't recognize your own handiwork?"

Cosima stuttered, "What...what?"

"It was you, Cosima. You killed Shay."

\- o -

 **A/N: Eat, Pray, Love...me?**


	11. Chapter 11: The Fall of Rome

**CH 11: The Fall of Rome**

The U.S Securities and Exchange Commission was the single largest agency of its kind. Its main purpose was to regulate, and enforce, laws of the nation's stock exchange. If you were a publicly traded company on the US stock exchange market, the SEC was your God, and its words were your Holy Bible. And the man behind the SEC was none other than Arthur Rashleigh Bell: the 31st and current Chairman of the SEC.

Arthur Bell was a married man, and the father of two beautiful daughters. To those that didn't know him, he was a man of many talents, and with high powered connections one can only dream of. On the outside, he was an influential man that played by nobody's rules but his own. But those closest to him knew the truth. Arthur Bell, like many high ranking government officials, wore a masquerade. In truth, he was a petty man. Those that stood in his way were deemed a foe. And those that no longer benefited him were expendable.

Many people would give up their first born child to become Chairman of an agency like the SEC, but not Arthur Bell. The SEC was a dead end job. Yes, it afforded him connections, but with all the wrong people. Unlike the US Senate or Congress, where elected officials could always aspire to reach a higher elected office, Arthur Bell was not afforded that chance.

But that wasn't always the case.

Politics was his life blood. He was a politician, through and through. But unfortunately, to win elections, you needed so much more than that. A green and ambitious Arthur Bell was poised to win the 2012 US Senate Election for New York. And he would've won, too, if it wasn't for one person: Rachel Duncan Black.

Rachel Duncan Black was the reason why he failed to clinch the election. But it wasn't solely the defeat that ruined him. It was so much more, and so much worse. He'll never win another election; not in this lifetime. Rachel Duncan Black was the one that banished him to purgatory, and now, after all these years, it was finally time for payback.

As long as Black Crown Corp. remained a privately held company, there was nothing Arthur Bell can do.

But that was about to change.

Arthur couldn't be more elated.

\- o -

Everything was a blur. Nothing registered.

Cosima sat there, and she nursed a drink. But that didn't help. It only made her heart race even faster than it already was. The news of Shay's passing struck her harder than any physical impact ever could. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Cosima couldn't get the smell of tainted copper off her hands, no matter how hard she scrubbed, the smell lingered on. It was pungent, and odorous, and it was every bit as maddening. It might be psychological, or it might be guilt, but whatever it was, the scent was driving her to the brink of insanity.

Kára Lang had left her hours ago. Cosima didn't ask her what she did with Shay's body. She didn't want to know, nor did she dare bring it up. She thought about turning herself in. It did cross her mind. And she wanted, too, but she was selfish and weak. If doing the right thing was ever easy, the world wouldn't be in the chaotic state it's in today. Everything was always easier said than done, and this was one of those instances. She hasn't made up her mind yet. And she hasn't spoken with anybody yet, not since the revelation. Her cellphone had too many missed calls to count, too many text messages to read, and too many voicemails to return. So she sat there, and she dwelled.

After God knows how long, the door opened, and in walked Lucifer reincarnated, Kára Lang. She was in a fabulous mood. She had a noticeable hop in her step. And if that wasn't a dead giveaway already, the sly grin etched on her face was another.

"You're going to want to see this."

Kára turned on the television, and clicked away on her iPad. "You see, after our little scuffle, and the whole she-said, she-said situation, I decided to install security cameras throughout the penthouse. You know, in case some other heartless bitch decides to accuse me of assault again."

Cosima didn't even bother to acknowledge that jab.

Kára connected the TV to the Wi-Fi, and brought the video up to the big screen. "Anyways. Enjoy the show."

The clip was short, only a minute and thirty seconds in length. But it was the context, and not the quantity, that mattered.

When the video started, Shay was already on the floor, her back bloodied by the shattered glass of the coffee table. She was still alive. Her lips moved, though no audio was recorded. And there, standing above her, was Cosima. The look on Cosima's face was unreadable. One moment she was standing, and the next, she was crouched on the floor. And that's when it happened. Cosima reached forth, and she removed a jagged shard of glass from Shay's neck. Shay's lips moved, yet again, though this time it wasn't words that were being said, but an apparent scream. Seconds later, Shay stopped moving all together. She laid there, completely lifeless.

And the video ended there.

It was one thing to know what happened, and another to see it play before your eyes.

Cosima's shoulders shot up, and she hurled her stomach contents. The stomach acid burned her throat, and the whiskey stung her eyes.

"Let's cut to the chase, Cosima. I know the location of Shay Davydov's body, and now, I have this damning video of you with said body. Your ass is mine, figuratively and literally, if you haven't figured it out yet."

This woman, this woman that spewed venom from its fangs, this was the real Kára Lang. The charade was gone, and the masquerade was finally off.

But Cosima refused to give in. "Fuck you, Kára! If you think, for even just a second, that I'll let you blackmail me, than you obviously don't know me well enough. I would rather confess and rot in jail, before I let you lay your filthy hands on me, ever again. So whatever the fuck it is you want with me, you can piss off, because it's not happening."

That's where she was wrong. Kára understood her personality perfectly well. She knew this would be her reaction, so she came prepared. Cosima Niehaus Black was selfless. She would rather you hurt her, than those closest to her heart, which is exactly what Kára planned to do.

Kára clicked play on her tablet, and this time, the screen played a slideshow. It was a collection of photos. They were photos of a distraught Rachel; Daniel at work; a snap of Alison taken from afar; a battered Donnie; an unconscious Sarah; a bloodied Paul; Kira during recess; Felix's mugshot; and a tearful Delphine. They played on repeat, again and again, and again.

"Don't you dare go near my family, you fucking cunt! Or so help me God, I'll fucking kill you myself!"

"This isn't about you anymore, Cosima, haven't you realized that yet? I don't want to blackmail you because I want to hurt your family, silly. I want to blackmail you because I want to hurt you." Kára tilted Cosima's face up, and looked her in the eyes, "So either you play nice, and give me the satisfaction I so desire, or I will turn you into the authorities. And slowly, one by one, I'll go after each and every single one of them."

Cosima shook with fear and trepidation at the blatant threat. She, of all people, knew just exactly how unhinged Kára Lang could be.

"I have nothing to lose, Cosima, you made damn sure of that the day you stabbed me in the back."

"What do you want?"

Kára disappeared into the bedroom, and returned moments later with a hanger. "Get dressed. Make yourself presentable. You and I are going to the office. We have a lot of work to do."

"Whatever sick game you're playing, you leave my family out of this." Cosima said through gritted teeth, "This is between you, and me."

"Oh, I will, darling. They're not the ones I want. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get dressed myself." Kára paused in her steps, and said, "I've got a surprise for you later. And trust me, you'll like it. I'll have you begging for more."

\- o -

Mount Sinai Hospital was one of the best hospitals in all of Canada. And that's exactly where Delphine found herself.

News of Felix's accident, and subsequent arrest, made the local headlines. The news outlets were having a field day. They didn't have all their ducks in a row, and yet, they wasted no time assassinating Felix's character with their razor sharp words. To those that truly understand, the power of the written word can cut you deeper than any knife ever can.

The two victims were a father and daughter. The daughter had been drinking earlier herself, but chose wisely; instead of driving home, she asked her father to pick her up. They were at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

The initial impact of the crash sent the father flying several meters back, and into oncoming traffic, where he was then subsequently struck by another moving vehicle. The driver of the second vehicle stayed at the scene, and won't likely be charged. The collision was unavoidable on his part, which didn't make him legally liable. The father survived. That was good news on Felix's part, but not for the family. They couldn't determine which impact, or when, but his spinal cord had been severe from the brainstem. The injury was irreversible. The father was declared brain dead after all efforts were exhausted.

And then there was the daughter. Felix's AMG GT caught the daughter on his windshield. And then he rammed his car, with the girl still on the windshield, into a store front. The daughter survived the initial impact, and was currently in surgery. The daughter sustained massive internal bleeding, and her prognosis was bleak.

Delphine felt for Felix, she honestly did. After all these months together, she genuinely cared for him, and his family. Felix needed the daughter to survive. It was the difference between several months in jail with probation, versus the possibility of life in prison for vehicular manslaughter. Felix was currently remanded into custody, pending a bail hearing. Delphine couldn't help him, so she did whatever she could, which was why she was here.

Mount Sinai was the same hospital Sarah was admitted to, too. Delphine was made aware of Sarah's condition, and the ensuing drama, courtesy of Alison. She wasn't close to anybody else, with the exception of Felix and Cosima, but she felt she owed it to Sarah, to see her. A lot of it was guilt. But a small part of her felt like she was truly a part of the Black family now.

According to Alison, every member of the family had been by to see Sarah, at one point or another, with the exception of Cosima. It's been weeks since Delphine last laid eyes on her. She hasn't returned any of her calls, or texts. Delphine knew there had to be a logical explanation, but a tiny voice in her head told her otherwise: she was avoiding you.

The day could not go by fast enough.

Four hours had lapsed of the eight hour operation. Once again, Delphine found herself in the waiting area outside operating theater #3. No news was good news, but not in medicine. It usually meant complications.

And that's when her phone rang. It was from a familiar number, though she did not welcome the call.

The first words out of her mouth was, "I can't talk now."

"Where are you, Delphine?"

"Whatever it is, Arthur, it can wait."

"Don't make me ask again."

Delphine scoffed, "I'm at the hospital. There. Happy?"

"Yes. Pleasantly. I need you to stay put, for the next hour or two."

Delphine's forehead creased, "Why?"

"Just do it. I'll speak with you soon."

And with that, the call disconnected.

Nobody pissed her off quite like her mother, though Arthur Bell was coming in at a close second in that category.

The mother of the victim entered the waiting area.

Delphine noticed her presence here and there, though they've never made eye contact, nor spoken. They both knew who the other person was. A part of her wanted to offer the woman her condolences, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't know what to say; no amount of words could ever console her grief.

The red light outside the operating theater turned off.

The surgery didn't take eight hours, as originally planned.

The girl had died on the surgical table. She died of a cerebral hemorrhage. They couldn't relieve the girl's intracranial pressure, and she bled out from her brain.

The mother's reaction was to be expected. She lost it. In one day, a twenty-four hour period, she lost both her husband, and her only daughter. Delphine was no longer invisible. The mother came at Delphine, and she slapped her with every ounce of agony in her being.

"You bitch! Give me back my daughter!"

The blow was sharp. But it was the heartache that stung the most.

\- o -

Shit had not only hit the fan, it's all over the place. So much has happened in recent months, and none of them were good instances. There was simply too much drama, and not enough hours in the day to deal with it. Which was why time was such an important commodity.

News of Felix's arrest has spread faster than a wildfire. Rachel and Alison did everything they could for their youngest brother, though their efforts alone may not be enough. Regardless of their plea, the countless phone calls they made, and his lawyer's best efforts, the Metro Toronto Police had him remanded into custody, pending a bail hearing. Until then, there was nothing anybody could do for him.

Rachel felt like she was being torn in a million directions. She hasn't set foot in Black Crown Corp. for days now. Majority of the workload was delegated to Daniel; he was more than capable. And it's been smooth sailing thus far. That is, until she got an urgent call from him, requesting her presence. And Alison's, too.

Daniel didn't have a sense of humor. This wasn't a joke. This was serious.

"Whatever the fuck it is, this better be good."

"Daniel's never sounded so nerve-wrecked before." Alison commented, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Don't start with the rubbish chit-chatter. I don't have the patience for it."

Rachel and Alison parted from the elevator, and they made a beeline for the conference room. They didn't know what to expect, but they most certainly wasn't expecting this.

The room was full of people, but only a few actually mattered. Besides Daniel, Kára Lang, Cosima, Donnie, and lawyers from Pearson Specter Litt, were also in attendance. Alison had jinxed it; Rachel did not have a good feeling about this.

"What's going on?"

Kára gestured, "Please, sit."

"I'll stand." Rachel said flatly. "Whatever this is, it can wait. I don't have time for this nonsense."

"Well, technically, your presence is required, according to Black Crown Corp.'s bylaws."

Rachel and Alison exchanged a confused look.

Daniel explained, "This is a board vote. Kára's called a board meeting, to bring forth a new proposal."

"A board vote?" Alison thought she misheard. "That's preposterous! She isn't even a member of the board. She can't bring forth jack-shit."

"You're absolutely right, Alison, and this is exactly why God created lawyers." Kára signaled for Harvey Specter, "Please."

"As you well know, our firm was the one that drafted Black Crown Corp.'s corporate bylaws. And what Ms. Alison Black said is indeed correct; only members of the board can call a meeting, and bring forth a proposal." Harvey Specter passed out several photocopies, "What you have there is a copy of Ms. Alison's Shareholder Agreement for Black Crown Corp."

"How did you get this?!"

"And if you'll direct your attention to the second document, it's a Share Transfer Contract, signed, yet again, by Ms. Alison Black. In the contract, it clearly indicates that all 10% of Ms. Black's previous holding of Black Crown Corp. will be transferred to Ms. Kára Lang, for an undisclosed sum."

Jessica Pearson, yet another name partner, said, "We have the original documents in our possession. You can review them, if you wish, but we've done our due diligence."

It's as if Rachel had locked eyes with Medusa; she couldn't bring herself to move, much less speak, or react.

"No. This is a forgery! I don't know how you got a hold of my Shareholder Agreement, but that is not my signature! And I most certainly didn't transfer my shares to you, you conniving bitch!"

And that was Donnie's cue. He tapped on Alison's arm, "Honey. I...I'm sure you just forgot. I mean, you've been so busy lately."

"How can I forget something this important?!" Alison swatted Donnie's hand away, but when she did, she also caught a glimpse of his guilt ridden face. It wasn't hard to connect the dots. "No. No. No! Donnie! What did you do?!"

"You can contest the legitimacy all you want, but I assure you, it's the real deal."

Cosima's stoic face did not come close to reflecting the inner turmoil that was brewing within. This was it. This was the beginning of the purge, and neither Rachel nor Alison knew it was coming; nor could they stop it either.

"Let's, for a second, assume this is genuine. You still can't call a vote. You need to give advance notice. There are five of us, but only three are currently present."

"I assure you, Ms. Black, that my client did, in fact, give twenty-four hour advance notice." Harvey Specter passed out several pages, "These are copies of the emails we sent you. And the call logs of our repeated attempts to reach you. Notice was given. You simply did not respond, Ms. Black."

"Sarah's still in the hospital! And Felix is in jail! Of course they're not going to fucking respond!" Rachel's anger flared, "This is a farce, and you know it!"

"Sorry, Ms. Black. But we followed the corporate bylaws to a tee."

"You fucking usurper! Do not forget who your real client is!" Alison screamed, "We're the ones that retained your firm as our legal counsel, not that vindictive bitch, so you better get your shit together!"

Kára raised a hand, "You're giving me a headache. Let's move this along, shall we?"

"What do you want?" Rachel finally asked.

"My proposal: I want to take Black Crown Corp. public. I want to prepare an IPO."

"What?!" A chord of fear struck Daniel, and the color on his face drained, "You can't be serious?! You can't do this!"

"I am. And I can."

This cannot be happening. Their mother intended to keep the company within the family, and every member of the Black family was in agreement. If they took the company public, they'll lose majority control, and that simply cannot happen.

"No." Rachel said firmly, "Black Crown Corp. will not go public."

"I'm afraid it's not up to you." Kára said sweetly, "That's why there's a vote."

"But Sarah and Felix aren't here!"

"That's not my fault. Advance notice was given. It's their prerogative if they choose not to attend. But those not in attendance automatically forfeit their vote. Isn't that right, Mr. Specter?"

"That is correct, Ms. Lang."

"This is a coup." Rachel balled her fist, "I never should've accepted your initial investment. That was a Trojan horse, wasn't it? I'm such an idiot. I led the wolf straight to the henhouse."

The grin on Kára's face said it all.

"Say something, Cosima!" Alison pleaded. "You can't let her do this!"

Cosima said nothing.

"When you're ready, Ms. Lang."

"Go ahead."

Harvey said, "Ms. Lang has proposed to take Black Crown Corp. public, and prepare an IPO. All those in favor?"

Kára raised her hand, "Aye."

"And all those opposed?"

"NO!" Rachel and Alison said in unison.

"Sorry, Ms. Alison. You no longer retain any shares in the company. Your vote is void."

"Then it's a deadlock." Daniel said, "It's one-one. Since the proposal doesn't have majority vote, it doesn't pass."

"That's not true, Mr. Rosen. Ms. Cosima Black hasn't voted yet. And she hasn't forfeited her vote, either."

"Cosima, please, don't do this." Alison begged, "You can't let that madwoman take the company away from us!"

"Well, Ms. Black?"

Cosima locked eyes with Rachel, and she said, "Aye."

Rachel wasn't hurt because of the defeat; she was devastated by Cosima's blatant betrayal.

"The proposal has passed."

Kára clapped her hands, "It might not seem like it, but I do have your best interest at heart."

"Why?" Rachel asked, "Tell me why, Cosima."

Cosima kept her silence.

"You wanted to teach me a lesson, is that it?! An eye for an eye?! If you have any qualms with me, take it out on me, and not the company!"

The brigade of high-priced lawyers upped and left. Kára was by the door, when she called out, "Let's go, Cosima."

Cosima did as she was told by her puppeteer. Her parting words were, "I'm sorry, Rachel."

With a shake of the head, and a scoff, Rachel collapsed in her chair.

"What does this mean, Rach?"

"It means we're fucked, Alison."

\- o -

Cosima didn't want to see anybody. She darted straight for her office. And of course, Kára, like a demonic possession, followed.

"Why?! Why can't you leave me the fuck alone?!" Cosima confronted Kára, "This ends now, you psychotic bitch, you hear me?!"

"This isn't over until I say so. This isn't even a fraction of what you subjected me to. You ruined my life when you looked me in the eyes, and you sent me to prison! You knew I was on probation! You knew I was having a rough time dealing with the loss of my mother! Remember how I begged you? I got down on my knees, and I begged you not to press charges. But you didn't care. You kicked me to the curb like I was a piece of trash."

"You beat me to an inch of my life! What the fuck did you expect me to do? Let you walk?!"

"That wasn't me! That was the drugs!"

"I didn't have a choice."

"But you did! You did have a choice!" Kára shouted ferociously, "My father was still grieving from the loss of his wife, and what do you do? You sent his only daughter to prison! You, Cosima, you killed my father! He passed away because of you! Because of the heartbreak you subjected him to! I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. And it's all your fault!"

"You really hate me that much?"

"No." Kára grabbed Cosima by the throat, "I hate you more than that!"

Kára brought both hands up, and she choked Cosima with every ounce of strength she had.

Cosima tried to pry her grip loose, to no avail. She stumbled backwards. She kept retreating till she fell back onto her desk.

The moment she was free from the chokehold, Cosima gasped deeply for oxygen; her lungs wheezed audibly from the strain.

Kára flipped Cosima over, and she bent her over her desk. "Remember that surprise I was telling you about?"

"No! Get off me!"

Cosima struggled, and she flailed, but Kára kept her down by the flat of her back.

This was premeditated. Kára had wanted this from day one. This was about control; and dominance.

Kára lifted Cosima's skirt up, and she savagely ripped her underwear off. She then lowered her pants, and she positioned herself just outside of Cosima's entrance.

Cosima fought back the best she could, but she knew Kára, better than anyone else. If she didn't give her what she wanted, she'll lash out even more. Cosima wasn't concerned for her own safety, it was her family she was worried about. Though Cosima relented, a part of her, the fighter within, wanted to fight off Kára's advances. But she was overpowered. There was nothing she could do.

Kára gagged Cosima's mouth with a strong hand, and she whispered tenderly, "This is just the beginning of your worst nightmare."

With no hesitation, Kára Lang penetrated Cosima anally. It was rough. And so was she. The full length of the phallus entered her, and it sent a jolt of agonizing pain rippling through her body. Cosima screamed, but they were muffled.

Cosima cried in torturous pain as she willfully endured the rape.

\- o -

Rachel crashed through those doors harder than a bull in a bullring.

Alison, Daniel, and a decrepit Donnie, followed suit.

"What are you thinking, Rach?"

The gears were churning a mile a minute. But Rachel didn't have a next move. Not yet. "Daniel, I want you to grab Steve and Stephen in Legal. I want their opinion on how to overturn Kára's proposal. I will exhaust every avenue, if necessary, to see that it doesn't go through."

"Okay."

And with that, it was just the three of them.

Rachel closed the gap, and stared Donnie dead in the eyes, "You want to tell me how Kára Lang got a hold of Alison's Shareholder Agreement?"

"I...I...What..."

Alison sat to one side of the room, her face buried in her hands. She couldn't help but blame Donnie, and to a certain extent, herself. If Kára had never gotten a hand on her 10% share of Black Crown Corp., this would've never happened.

"Explain yourself!"

"I stole it from her security safe. And I pawned it. But it was supposed to be held as collateral only! They swore it would be temporary, and I could redeem it anytime I wanted to, as long as I had the money. You have to believe me, Rachel, I would never sell the company."

Alison stuttered, "You...you gambled away the company?"

"I...I..."

Rachel was visibly upset, and rightfully so. They were royally fucked, and it was all Donnie's fault. "Did you, or did you not, forge Alison's signature?"

Donnie whimpered, "I did."

That was all Rachel needed to hear. This was their way out. "That makes the sale illegal. We can contest the legitimacy of the acquisition. I am not letting that twat take away our company!"

"No! You can't!" Donnie fell to his knees, and he sobbed, "Please, Rachel, you can't! I forged Alison's signature on a federal document! I could go to jail for it!"

"You should've thought about that before you did it, you stupid wanker." Rachel lashed out angrily, "I always knew you were an idiot, but I never thought you were dead from the neck up. It's not even a competition. If I had to choose between you, and saving the company, I will always choose the latter, in a heartbeat."

Donnie crawled to where Alison was, and he groveled. "Please, Alison! I'm sorry. I was afraid I would lose you if you ever found out. I swear, I didn't do this to hurt you. I love you, so much. You have to believe me."

Alison cupped Donnie's cheeks, and she gently wiped the tears from his bruised cheeks.

"Hello, Paulson?" Rachel said, "It's me. Listen, I need a huge —"

Alison grabbed Rachel's cellphone, and she threw it across the room.

"What the fuck, Alison?! Have you lost your God damn mind?!"

"I'm not doing it. I will not contest the signature."

"She doesn't get a pass! She doesn't get to come in here, and steal what's rightfully ours!" Rachel grabbed Alison by the shoulders, "Only you can make this right."

"No. I won't do it." Alison swatted Rachel's hands away, "Do not make me choose between you, and my husband."

"This isn't just about me. It's about all of us. We're family. Blood is thicker than water."

"Don't forget, he's my husband! He's family, too!"

"He's not your blood!"

"I won't throw Donnie to the wolves. You and I both know Kára Lang will seize the opportunity, and tear him to shreds. I've already lost the company. I will not lose my husband, too."

Alison grabbed Donnie, and they left an exasperated Rachel be.

In a fit of rage, Rachel swiped everything off her desk, and she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Their family was in shambles. And their company was now susceptible to a hostile takeover.

They had lost the battle, and the war. All was lost. Rome has fallen.

\- o -

 **A/N: Trick or treat. Give me something good to eat. Not too big. Not too small. Just the size of Montreal.**


	12. Chapter 12: Expect the Unexpected

**CH 12: Expect the Unexpected**

The dial tone only rang once, and that was it. The call was eagerly expected.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

"Oh, Jason, thank God you're okay."

"Woah. Calm down. Take a breath. You know I won't do anything without calling you first."

"I know, babe, I know. I've just been on edge, is all."

"Well, don't be." Jason lowered his voice, "Did the money come through yet?"

Silence.

"Julie?"

"I'm here. Uh. Yeah. It's good. She came by, and dropped of the money, like she said she would."

"Good." Jason swallowed hard, "Well, then, I'll speak with you soon. There's nothing to worry about. I'll be careful."

"Please, don't do this, Jason. I'm begging you. We'll find another way."

"I'll be fine."

And with that, the call was disconnected abruptly.

\- o -

Black Crown Corp. owned the entire skyscraper. Rachel's office was on the fortieth floor, and had an overview of the city that was to die for. And that's where Rachel found herself. Rachel sat in her office mindlessly, and simply stared out into the abyss. From sunrise to sunset, that was how she spent her day.

Somewhere along the lines, everything went terribly wrong. Rachel had exhausted every option available to her, except one; her contingency plan. It was not one she wanted to implement, not if she could help it, but what choice did she have? Rachel had to set aside her pride, and do what was best for her family. She was not above asking for help.

Rachel picked up the receiver, and slowly, she punched in the long distance number.

The dial tone rang, and rang, and rang.

The call was eventually picked up, like she knew it would.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

\- o -

This wasn't how she imagined life would be. But yet, here she was, wallowing in a pool of misery, and this all started with mommy dearest.

Évelyne Cormier had lied, cheated, stolen, and stabbed a lot of people in the back, to get to where she is today. Along the way, she's made plenty of mistakes, and regrettably, many were illegal. Delphine was still in Nepal when she had gotten the urgent call from her mother. They haven't seen or spoken to each other in almost two years, and now suddenly, an overseas call from out of the blue? It can't be anything good. And she was right. It was one of the worst phone calls she's ever gotten.

Arthur Bell had unearthed enough evidence against Évelyne Cormier to send her to prison for the rest of her miserable life. And Delphine would've stood idly by, if not for her mother's incestuous plea, and her condition. Her mother had been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease on her 65th birthday. You wouldn't know it if she didn't tell you. Her symptom-free physique certainly didn't give it away. And that's why she said yes. Delphine didn't have the heart to see her mother spend whatever time she had left behind bars in federal prison. And that was how she found herself up to her neck in drama and bullshit.

Obsession was a strong word, but it wasn't nearly strong enough to describe Arthur Bell's fixation on the Black family, particularly Rachel Duncan Black.

The main objective of her assignment was to gain access to Black Crown Corp., to collect evidence of wrongdoings, and fraudulent activities. For the past six months, Delphine has passed on hundreds upon hundreds of documentations. Practically anything she got her hands on, she passed along.

But Delphine wasn't a monster. She was simply a woman caught between a rock and a hard place. She has come to grown attached to her surrogate family; each and every one of the Blacks genuinely felt like her own extended family. And that was why she could not longer face them. She could no longer look them in the eyes, and continue with the charade. Her masquerade had long faded; her emotions and intentions were sincere.

Delphine has done every she could for her mother. But in truth, Arthur Bell was a petty man. Even after everything she's done for him, if he still went ahead and decided to press charges against her mother, at the very least, she tried. Delphine has done her part as the dutiful daughter. There was nothing more she could do, even if she wanted to.

Which was why Delphine found herself at her penthouse condo. Her mind was made: she was going to drop everything, and run. She no longer wanted to be a part of Arthur Bell's sadistic games; nor could she bring herself to hurt the Blacks anymore. It was cowardice, and shameful, on her part but it was the easiest opt out.

The elevator doors parted, and Delphine walked out.

The place was unchanged since she was last here with Cosima. It was cold, empty, and lifeless; a mirror image of her life.

"Hey."

"Jesus!" Delphine almost jumped out of her skin. "Cosima?"

There, crouched in the corner, by the elevator panel, was Cosima Niehaus Black, in the flesh.

"How did you get up here?"

"I've been in real estate development all my life. I know how to replicate a passcard. And I memorized your pin from last time."

Cosima was noticeably thinner than when she last laid eyes on her. Delphine also noticed how her eyes were red and swollen from beneath her frames. "What's wrong, Cosima?"

"Everything." Cosima banged her head back, and sighed, "I had nowhere else to go, and nobody else to turn to. And I wanted to see you, Delphine. I've missed you."

Delphine's heart simultaneously melted, and ached, at those simple words. She tossed all her previous thoughts aside, and she sat herself down next to Cosima. "I've missed you, too. Listen, Cosima, can we talk about —"

"Can we not." Cosima interjected. "I really don't feel like talking. I just want to be here, with you, like this. And nothing more."

"Okay. Whatever you want." Something about Cosima was amiss. But Delphine knew better than to push her. "We'll talk when you're ready."

"Thank you."

"Is that all the clothes you brought?" Delphine pointed at the duffle bag, "You could always borrow some of mine, if you don't mind."

Cosima unzipped the bag, and dumped out the contents. She then sorted the clothes into two distant piles. "These are mine. Those are... Kára's. I didn't have time to pack, so I just grabbed whatever I could, and left."

"We can burn her clothes in an epic bonfire later, if you're feeling up to it."

"Maybe later."

Delphine kicked the dirty pile to one side. And that's when she noticed a business card, hidden beneath the clothes. When she read the name, her eyes widened unbelievably.

"Where did you get this?!"

Cosima peeked over Delphine's shoulder. "I don't know any Arthur Bell. It must be Kára's. I must've accidentally grabbed it on my way out."

And that's when it clicked. Delphine finally pieced together the puzzle. Arthur Bell must have found something damning, enough to implicate Black Crown Corp. And now, he and Kára Lang were in collusion, all in an elaborate attempt to bring the company pubic. During the course of due diligence, the evidence will come to light, and Arthur will be right there, ready to pounce.

Arthur Bell was, indeed, a cunning bastard. It was two birds with one stone: the scandal will bury both Black Crown Corp., and the Black family. Nobody will be spared. And none will be the wiser.

Delphine had to make a decision. She could follow through with her original plan, and run from it all. Or she could tell the truth, and begin the long route to atonement — hopefully with Cosima by her side. It wasn't easy. But the tyranny had to end.

"Cosima, there's something I have to tell you. But you're not going to like it."

\- o -

The lights were on, but the house was virtually empty. Only Alison and Donnie were home, but were confined to their quarters; they weren't going to be a bother.

Rachel was nowhere to be found, and that's exactly how he wanted it to be. He was traveling light. Daniel grabbed what he could, and left behind what he couldn't. But it didn't matter. Practically everything in his possession was replaceable, and that included his marriage.

Daniel didn't want it to come to did, but he was left with no choice. The threat of an IPO paralyzed him with an intense fear. Anybody in the world of commerce knew that during the course of an IPO, all your finances had to undergo a rigorous audit. The SEC's audits were notoriously difficult, and held the highest advance forensic audit standard in the world. That wasn't music to his ears. It was the enchanting tune of a Siren, ready to lure him to his watery grave. Black Crown Corp. will never pass the audit. Daniel made sure of that, with his illicit activities throughout the years.

True. Rachel might still have an ace up her sleeve, and the IPO could still be reversed, but Daniel didn't want to gamble, not with his life he didn't. He would not fare well in prison. And that's exactly where he'll find himself, if evidence of his bookmaking came to light. Daniel knew Rachel better than anyone else. There was no way in Hell she would stand by him if his blatant betrayal came to light. She would leave him in a heartbeat.

Daniel only took the basic essentials with him. It included some clothes, his passport, and $800,000 in bearer bonds he had stashed in a safety deposit box. The chartered flight was scheduled to depart in two hours. It was a one-way flight to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

The place had been wiped clean. There was just one last thing. Daniel took off his wedding band, and he placed it atop Rachel's vanity dresser.

The message could not be clearer: it was over.

\- o -

Money is only as good as the people you buy with it. And if there was one thing Felix could afford, it was the best attorney the City of Toronto had to offer. He didn't just hire one criminal defense attorney; he hired a legal team of six. But it didn't matter how many ivy league graduates he hired, they still couldn't bail him out of this hellhole. They expedited his bailing hearing, but even so, four days was a long time. The suits were optimistic though; it was his first offense, and he had deep ties to the community. Felix was almost certain he'll be granted bail.

In the meantime though, Felix found himself in a remand prison. A remand prison was in-between a detention center, and an actual prison. But it still sucked, nonetheless. Everybody that passed through those doors were all lowlifes, either too poor to afford bail, or their crime was so atrocious, the judge denied their bail. The place was a cesspool. In Felix's eyes, they were all deadbeats, and prison is exactly where they belonged. But he kept that to himself. Until his bail hearing, Felix kept his eyes down, and his mouth shut. He didn't want trouble, nor was he looking for any.

But that was next to impossible, not when his face was plastered all over the six o'clock news, across all major networks. There were perks to being a member of the prominent Black family, but at this moment, Felix wanted nothing more than to distant himself from that surname. He had a target on his back. But he was determined to make it through, in spite of that. It was only four days. The worst possible thing has already happened to him: he was in jail. What can possibly happen in four days' time?

It wasn't all bad. Felix was given his very own cell, while others had to share one. It was no doubt Rachel's doing. So at the very least, he got a good night's sleep.

Come morning, an alarm bell would ring over the PA system at six o'clock, sharp. The correctional officers would then conduct a body count, and when all was in order, breakfast was served. And that was exactly where Felix found himself. The line was long, and his stomach empty. Felix queued for food along with the other inmates. When he was finally served, all that was dumped onto his tray was a slice of bread, and nothing more.

"Excuse me. I think you forgot my oats and orange juice."

The worker scowled at him, "Fuck off, you pansy faggot."

"What did you —"

"Keep the line moving!"

Felix kissed his teeth, and he swallowed his retort. He grabbed the bread, and he threw the tray behind the counter. "Go fetch, bitch."

Felix headed for the doors, when a CO stopped him dead in his tracks. "No food outside the cafeteria. You want that bread, you finish it here."

"But..."

"No buts." The CO pointed to an empty table by the corner, "Go sit, Black. Don't make me ask you again."

Under any other circumstances, Felix would've thrown a fit, but he remembered his earlier affirmation, about staying out of trouble. Besides, he really was starving. The bread wasn't much, but it'll fill him, at least, until lunchtime. Felix did as he was told like a good choir boy. As he walked past the other inmates, he could feel their eyes pierce his clothes; it was that invasive.

Felix sat with his back to the guy, and he ate his breakfast in peace.

"Hey. I know you. Felix Black, right?"

Felix kept his head down, and said nothing.

"You're fortunate, you know? At least you can afford a reputable attorney. My public defender is a joke. The guy's juggling thirty cases, simultaneously. The bastard wants me to take a plea deal, just so he could avoid a trial. Can you believe that?"

"Look, whatever this is, I'm not interested. We're not mates. I don't know you. And I don't need your life story. So, please, just stop."

"You know, you really are the asshole they say you are. People like you, born with a silver spoon, you just sail through life. You never take responsibility for your actions. And at the end of the day, when shit goes down, you don't own up to your mistakes. No. You buy your way out. Now, tell me, how is that fair?"

"Fairness is for people that can afford it."

The man threw down his plastic utensils. He was done with his meal. "You're right. Money makes the world go round. And now thanks to you, I could finally afford a proper lawyer."

And that's when Felix finally looked up. "What are you talking about?"

The man pulled out a homemade shank; it was a razor blade attached to a toothbrush.

Felix slapped the shank away. "What the fuck?!"

But instead of going after Felix, Jason used the shank on himself.

Jason stabbed himself indiscriminately; wherever the makeshift shank landed, it pierced the skin through and through. And through it all, Jason kept quiet; not even a tiny peep. When he finally stopped, the shank was protruding from his abdomen, then and only then, did Jason scream bloody murder.

"HELP! OH, GOD! HELP!" Jason pointed a bloody finger at Felix, "The motherfucker stabbed me!"

A CO tackled Felix to the floor, and clubbed him repeatedly with his baton, "Stop resisting! Hands behind your back! I said stop resisting!"

"I'm not resisting!"

When backup arrived, several correctional officers had Felix circled, and their batons lashed down, no questions asked. The fury of their strikes were evenly matched with their wild breaths.

It was four against one.

Felix did not stand a chance.

\- o -

Regardless of how hard you try to stop time, time waits for no one. While Sarah's world came crashing down, the world around her continued to spin. Nothing was the same; everything has changed.

Sarah had been discharged yesterday, and already, she couldn't believe all that has happened since. Rachel was there when the doctors gave her the okay. And the first thing they did was hug it out. In the end, they were family; they only had each other. Rachel's priorities may not always be in the right place, but her heart was. And unlike their eldest sister, Sarah refused to believe Cosima betrayed them, for Kára Lang of all people. And until Cosima told her otherwise, Sarah gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Sarah may have missed the board vote that threw Black Crown Corp. into disarray, but there was no way she was missing the scheduled meeting this afternoon. When it came to Kára Lang, they'll need all the help they can get to contain her craziness, and Sarah was intent on doing just that.

But such with life, when one fire was quelled, another would arise; the drama was a never-ending vicious cycle. Since Sarah's admittance a week ago, Dr. Schultz, Kira's primary pediatrician, has blown up her phone. Under Dr. Schultz's care, Kira's anemia has improved vastly. But like the saying goes: no news is good news. And in this case, Sarah was almost certain she was not going to like what the doctor has to say.

Kira still visited Dr. Schultz every month, to be reevaluated as a precautionary measure. If nothing else, these monthly visits provided Sarah with peace of mind.

A knock sounded, and Dr. Schultz showed his ugly mug. "Hello, Ms. Black."

"Good afternoon."

"Oh." Dr. Schultz did a double-take, "What happened to your eye?"

"Tennis accident." Sarah answered annoyingly. "You called about Kira?"

"Oh. Yes. I actually called to discuss the results of her latest blood test. With the anemia treatment we have Kira on, her red blood cell count has steadily increased over the past several months."

"That's good news, right?"

"Well, that's where things start to complicate. Kira's most recent blood work left much to be desired. Her platelets have dropped, despite her dietary adjustment, and the iron-therapy we have her on. Such fluctuations are a cause for concern, because it usually points to anemia being a symptom of an underlying cause, or disease."

"So what exactly are you saying, Dr. Schultz?" Sarah asked fretfully, "Is Kira okay?"

"Kira's urine sample raised a red flag. I don't believe Kira's anemia is chronic, like we originally thought, nor is it genetic, actually."

"What is causing Kira's anemia, then?"

"Kira is suffering from chronic kidney disease. Health kidneys produce a hormone called EPO. The primary function of EPO is to instruct the body's bone marrow to produce more red blood cells. Because Kira's EPO levels are below baseline, even with aggressive iron-therapy, it's simply not enough."

Sarah heard every single word, but her mind couldn't process the information. "So what are you saying? That Kira needs to be put on dialysis?"

"No. Unfortunately, dialysis is used for lost kidney functions in people with kidney failure. Kira's kidneys aren't failing, they're unhealthy; damaged, if you will. Dialysis won't do her any good."

Sarah was at her wit's end, "So stop telling me what you can't do, and tell me what you can."

"Well, taking into consideration Kira's age and the current progression of her disease, I would strongly recommend a kidney transplant."

"A kidney transplant?!"

"Yes, Ms. Black. And then there's the issue of Kira's blood type. Only six-percent of the world population are AB Negative. Given the restrictions, I strongly recommend a familial donation. Since her father shares the same antigen as Kira, he would be the most suitable candidate."

Sarah zoned out; she heard not a single word.

"Shall I give Mr. Dierden a call, then?"

\- o -

By now, word of Kára Lang's coup d'état has spread throughout the company. There were vicious rumors that the Blacks have finally lost control of the company. Many of Black Crown Corp.'s employees were paranoid. They had no idea what Kára Lang's intentions were, and they were fearful for their jobs. With the fate of the company still undecided, that's when you truly know where people's loyalty lies.

The scheduled meeting today would be the last and final step towards preparing an IPO. The application required the board's signatures, every last one of them.

The Blacks in attendance today included: Rachel, Sarah, Alison, Cosima, and Delphine. They occupied one side of the table. While Kára Lang sat on the other side, with her minion of lawyers from Pearson Specter Litt. Even Cosima, whose last vote was in support of Kára's proposal, chose to side with her family this time. Actions spoke louder than words, and Cosima's actions were worth so much more. It wasn't easy. And it took a lot of courage. But Cosima no longer wanted to be Kára's puppet. Whatever Kára Lang has planned, she would face it, come Hell or high waters, but she wasn't alone anymore, she had Delphine now.

Cosima has come to realize that the control Kára had over her, it all stemmed from a deep-seated fear, rooted in the abusive relationship they shared. That was the sort of power the abuser has over the abused. But not anymore. Cosima wasn't going to go about this alone, not anymore. There was power in numbers. And after this farce of a meeting, Cosima was going to come clean, and tell her family the truth; about everything. And once all the dirty laundry was out there in the open, it's no longer the skeleton in your closet.

Kára Lang had assaulted Cosima, twice now. She'll never forgive her for it. And she will pay. But Cosima chose to use that hurt, and that pain, as motivation to see to it that she never hurts another anymore, like she did her. She could act like a victim, and have the world throw their pities at her. Or she could stand up for herself, and end the victimization, right here, right now.

Cosima held Delphine's hand underneath the table. She was nervous. And her palm sweaty.

Delphine gave Cosima's hand a gentle squeeze, "You alright?"

"I will be, soon enough."

Lousi Litt, the third and final name partner of Pearson Specter Litt, began the meeting. "Thank you for taking the time to be here today. I'm Louis Litt, and I will act in the capacity as your legal advisor, and guide you through your IPO application."

Rachel checked her watch.

"On behalf of Black Crown Corp., I have already contacted Ernst & Young LLP, and they have agreed to take us on as clients. Their firm will be responsible for the audit analytics, and they'll also determine what the best offering price would be, and the best time to bring it to market."

Mike Ross handed Louis a folder.

"Now according to the initial proposal, you wish you be listed on the NASDAQ stock market. Is that correct?"

Kára said, "It is."

"Excellent." Louis handed Kára a confirmation letter, "The application has been filled. All that is missing is the required signatures."

Without hesitation, Kára Lang signed where indicated.

Mike passed the letter forth, "Ms. Black, if you would."

Rachel outright declined, "No."

Sarah said, "I second that."

Cosima followed, "Same."

Alison added, "I would jump in, too, but that conniving bitch stole all my shares."

Kára could not be more amused, especially by Cosima's valiant effort to oppose her. "Really, now? You're still going to put up a fight?"

"Ms. Lang is right. Those that refuse to sign, or those in absentia, we will petition the courts, and have a power of attorney sign on your behalf. So whether you choose to sign the confirmation letter or not, the outcome will be the same."

Cosima shot Kára a deadly stare. The woman was as devious as she was ingenious. It wasn't a matter of do or die; it was damned if you do, and damned if you don't.

Rachel reaffirmed, "No. You can twist our arms all you like. It's not happening."

"As you wish, Ms. Black. We'll see to it that your —"

The doors threw back with a loud bang.

Every single member of the Black family, with the exception of Delphine, recognized the intruder. Sarah, Alison, and Cosima had a bemused look on their face, that just about said it all.

"You." The woman pointed at Louis, "What's your name?"

"Louis Litt. Wait a minute, lady, who the Hell are you? This is a closed door meeting. You can't be in here."

"Mr. Litt, I have no idea what you do around here, but your services will no longer be required. You can show yourself out."

"I don't know who you are, but I don't appreciate your tone. So unless you show yourself out, I'll have security escort you out."

"I've asked you politely once. Do not make me ask you again, Mr. Litt."

"You stupid, crazy —"

"Do as she says." Rachel spoke up, "And leave us."

Kára Lang dismissed her minions with a wave of the hand. "And who might this be?"

Rachel stood up, and said, "Hello, mother."

\- o -

 **A/N: Ask, and ye shall received. So, ask away.**


	13. Chapter 13: End of the Road

**CH 13: End of the Road**

"And who might this be?"

Rachel stood up, and said, "Hello, mother."

The woman finally introduced herself. "I'm Siobhan Sadler Black. Mrs. S, for short. I would say 'pleasure to meet you', but that would be a downright lie."

Kára Lang couldn't hide her bewilderment. Over the course of their relationship, not once has Cosima ever mentioned her mother. Kára just assumed Cosima's parents had passed away. But here she was, in the flesh, alive and well. This wasn't something Kára account for, and the revelation rocked her.

Kára offered up her hand. "Kára Lang."

Mrs. S rudely slapped the extended hand aside.

Kára scoffed. And before she knew it, Mrs. S knocked her to the floor with a sucker punch. The sharp jab caught her right in the jaw. It was reminiscent of the scene that unfolded only months prior, when Cosima decked her with a sucker punch. It was in the exact same spot, too.

Kára landed with unadulterated force. Her body bounced off the floor with a hard thump.

"That's for hurting Cosima, you piece of shit." Mrs. S brought her foot up, and she drove her heel into Kára's open palm. The three inch heel was razor sharp. Any more pressure, and it would easily pierce the flesh below. "And this, this is for hurting my children."

Nobody intervened, nor did they extend a helping hand. Every single one of the Black children remained impassive, and unmoved. They knew their mother better than anyone else. They weren't the least bit surprised. But Delphine, on the other hand, she muffled a gasp with a hand to the mouth.

"You can't do this! This is assault!"

"Try and prove it, honey. Haven't you ever wondered why all five of the Blacks only retain 10% each, of Black Crown Corp.?"

Kára assumed it was a rhetorical question; she said nothing.

"That's because I retain majority control. I own 50% of the company, and I'll be damned if I let a little spoiled bitch, like you, steal my company." Mrs. S bent down to be eye level with Kára. "It's bad enough you stole Alison's share. Don't you dare, for even one second, think I'll let you push my children out of my own company. Do I make myself clear?"

Kára timidly said, "Very."

"Good. I will tolerate your presence, but rest assured, I will make your life a living Hell. So much so, that by the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to buy you out, Ms. Lang."

Kára gulped.

"Black Crown Corp. will remain private. And that's final. The topic will not be broached again."

And with that final declaration, Mrs. S was done. She threw her daughters an unreadable look, and she left, just like that.

Kára was the next to follow suit. She swayed on the spot, no doubt still dazed from the sucker punch. She, too, left without another word.

When the sisters were certain their mother was out of earshot, did they finally break word.

"You called mother?!" Sarah was in disbelief. "Really?"

"I had no choice."

Everybody, except Delphine, knew what this meant.

Alison said, "I'm assuming mother is back for good, then."

"Yes." Rachel said indifferently, "Our original agreement stands. I will step down as CEO."

Cosima cleared things up for Delphine, and said, "Shit just got real."

\- o -

Felix banged his fist against the table repeatedly, and frustratingly.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

"Please, Mr. Black."

"How many times do I have to tell you?! I didn't stab the guy! I didn't even go near him! He stabbed himself!"

"We heard you, Mr. Black, loud and clear. But that doesn't make sense. And if that's the story you're sticking with, then we're in big trouble."

"What story?!" Felix was flabbergasted, "This isn't a cover story! It's the truth, I tell you!"

Cary Agos threw his partner a helpless look. Alicia Florrick took that as her cue.

"Mr. Black, I'm going to be candid with you." Alicia began, "The man, Jason Finly Goode, he's currently listed in critical condition. The Attorney General of Ontario will likely charge you with assault with a deadly weapon, but what we're worried about is the charge of attempted murder. Should Mr. Goode succumb to his injuries, that charge will be upgraded to manslaughter. We'll do our best to claim self defense, but we need your cooperation."

Felix's breath was caught in his throat, as a rock settled in his stomach.

Cary continued, "Your bail hearing is still as scheduled. But Alicia and I agree, given the recent development and severity of the charges, your bail will likely be denied."

Felix shot straight up from his seat, but the body chain kept him tied down. "How is this possible?! Check the cameras! They'll prove to you I didn't do it!"

"The surrounding cameras only caught the aftermath. You were situated in a blind spot."

Felix was stupefied. "You're kidding, right?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not." Alicia said, "We need the truth. So why don't you start from the very beginning, and walk us through the events once more."

"No! No! No! I want to speak with my sisters!" Felix banged his fist violently, "Get them here, now!"

"You need to calm down."

"Do not tell me how I should feel, or act. I'm the one that pays your God damn salary. Now, go! We're done here."

"You can't possibly —"

"I said we're done!"

\- o -

The triumphant return of the Queen to her rightful throne. Mrs. S could not contain the sense of jubilation she felt at this exact moment. True. She wouldn't be back here, if not for her children's failures. But such is life: you win some, and you lose some. And in this case, her children's lost was indeed her gain.

The moment she set foot through those doors, Mrs. S was hit with a hardened sense of déjà vu. It's as if she never left in the first place. And it felt good.

It wasn't long before the Black children lined up, in their birth order: Rachel, Alison, Sarah, and Cosima. Delphine stood in for Felix.

And it was something Mrs. S took note of almost immediately.

"And who might you be, darling?"

"She's Delphine, mother." Rachel answered. "Felix's wife."

Mrs. S could not believe her ears. She thought she misheard. "My only son weds, and I wasn't even afforded a courtesy call, much less an invite. I guess you all really do hate me that much."

"They eloped. We weren't afforded anything more than you were." Sarah said matter-of-factly, "And we don't hate you, mother, we hated what this company, what the business, did to you, to us. We felt more like you employees than we did your daughters."

Alison added, "Money isn't everything."

"And that's exactly the mindset that got you where you are today!" Mrs. S pointed a finger at each and every single one of her children. "Rachel: shortsighted; Alison: soft; Sarah: temperamental; Cosima: emotional; and Felix: spoiled."

None of the Black children have seen or spoken to their mother in five years' time, and this was how they were greeted. They couldn't hide the hurt or disappointment etched on their faces.

Delphine observed everything with a careful eye. The Black family dynamic was as turbulent as it was dysfunctional. But now, truly, Delphine felt her mother, by comparison, was a saint. Rachel, in her time of need, asked her mother for help, to which, granted, Mrs. S did. But then to turn around and rub her failure in Rachel's face, and then attack her children's self esteem, it was cold.

Sarah refused to stand down, and take the beratement. "It's not as bad as it seems. We were in a bit of a jam. Rachel's leadership, and capabilities, aren't called into question. We simply needed your majority share, to quell the proposal, is all."

"Rachel left Black Crown Corp. susceptible to a hostile takeover; Alison has lost all her shares in her own God damn company; you're still bruised and battered, Sarah; Cosima's nutter ex is out for blood. And I have a fucking daughter-in-law I didn't even know existed." Mrs. S yelled in a violent outburst, "And Felix is fucked, because he mowed two people over with his fucking car! So tell me, Sarah, darling, is everything really sunshine and lollies?"

Nobody said anything.

"The five of you forced me out. And I agreed because at the end of the day, you are my children, and I want to see you succeed. And I kept my word. But we had an agreement. The moment you ask me for help, is that the day I resume control."

Rachel was not above asking for help, even if it meant her own demise. "I remember, mother. I will step down, as promised."

"Good. Once I've settled, I look forward to a lovely dinner with all my children."

Mrs. S gave each and every single one of them a kiss on the cheek; it was more customary than it was personal.

They took that as their cue to leave.

But Cosima stayed. She held Delphine's hand publicly, for the first time ever, and she stayed back. "Give us a moment, will you?"

Rachel, Alison, and Sarah noticed their fingers interlocked. They weren't blind. They always knew there was something between Cosima and Delphine, but none of them had come right out and asked. This public display of affection, it was Cosima's way of reaffirming what they already suspected.

Alison wanted to say something, but Sarah held her back.

The door closed behind them.

"Really, Cosima? Your brother's wife?"

"It's not like that, mother." Cosima looked Delphine in the eyes, and the words simply rolled off her tongue, "I genuinely care for her. And I'm certain she shares the sentiment."

"I do."

"We care for each other, deeply, but we haven't done anything to betray Felix's trust. I would never do that to him."

"So if it's not my blessing that you're looking for, then what is it?"

Delphine didn't need Cosima to fight her battles for her. She was ready to own up to her mistakes, and atone for what she did, to them. "I have sensitive information regarding Rachel. I think I know why Kára Lang's obsessed with Black Crown Corp., and why she's so Hell bent on taking the company public."

"But that's not all. It's not just Rachel." Cosima exhaled heavily. "It's me. I'm in trouble. And I need your help."

"Oh?"

From the moment the bombshell was dropped, the thought of Shay has always lingered on Cosima's mind. And she was certain that it was something Kára would hold over her head. She needed to do the right thing. The guilt, it was unbearable. Not even Delphine knew. Cosima hasn't told a single soul, not yet, anyways.

"I...I think I killed Shay. And I want to turn myself in."

"You, what?!"

\- o -

Jason Finly Goode was pronounced dead at 3:49PM, at the age of forty-three. He's survived by his wife, Marie, and their two year old daughter, Grace.

Jason's death may have been sacrificial, but it was not in vain. In addition to his life insurance policy, which wasn't a substantial sum, the family also got a lump sum to the tune of $100,000. A deposit was secured prior to the arrangement. And the moment the news broke, and made national headlines, the outstanding balance was paid in full, as promised.

The woman that orchestrated the stabbing obviously wanted Felix Dawkins Black in prison, and she was willing to pay, manipulate, and exploit whoever was needed, to get what she wanted.

The woman paid in cash. And Jason paid with his life.

\- o -

"Do not take that tone with me, Arthur, I do not respond well to threats!"

And with that, Kára ended the call. Nothing was resolved. And neither party got what they truly desired.

Kára had never been this angry before. She was so close, too. All that time, energy, and effort was wasted. All because one stupid bitch decided to stick her nose where it didn't belong. This wasn't over. This was far from over.

Kára still had plenty more up her sleeve, but first, she needed money, lots of it. She already blew through the allowance her grandfather gave her. And that's exactly why she was here, in suburbia, at her childhood home.

The Lang family were well off. Both Kára's mother and father came from old money, and together, when they passed away, left her with a hefty inheritance. But Kára didn't have excess to that money. No. Her inheritance was locked in a trust fund, with her grandfather as the sole executor. Whenever she needed money, she was reduced to begging like a lowly bum. It was beyond humiliating. And yet, that's exactly what Kára had to do, if she had any hope of finishing what she started.

Kára let herself in. There were staff on site, and a live-in nurse, though Kára found nobody else at the residence. She headed straight for her grandfather's study, where she knew he'll be.

A knock sounded.

"Come in."

"Hello, Opa."

Walter Joël Lang was a man in his mid eighties, though his mindset was sharper than most. The man was a tough son of a bitch. He outlived his wife, son, and daughter-in-law. All he had was his work, and his only granddaughter, Kára Lang. Walter's health had deteriorated over the years; even with multiple bypasses, and heart complications, the man refused to step down, or take it slow.

Their relationship weren't the best. Walter Lang came from a different time. He never truly understood his granddaughter, nor did he accept her homosexual lifestyle. They saw each other every now and then, but they weren't close.

At the sight of his granddaughter, Walter smiled politely, and said, "Kára. It's nice to see you."

"Have you been well?"

"I have. Thank you. And yourself?"

Kára, unconsciously, rubbed her jaw. "I could be better. I need a favor, Opa."

Walter got up from his seat, and he situated himself on his desk, with his arms crossed. "Go on."

"I need more money."

"I see." Walter sternly said, "Well, the answer is no."

"Please, Opa, you know I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't absolutely necessary."

"Your father entrusted me to be the executor of your trust fund. And this is exactly why. Every time you show your face, you're always asking for more money. Time after time; again and again. When does it end, Kára?"

"I am not asking you for money. It's my money. And frankly, it's embarrassing that I would even have to beg you to gain access to my inheritance!"

"Your father never did trust your better judgment. And with good reason. You're almost thirty, and you have nothing to show for it! All your brushes with the law, your stint in rehab, and even prison, and you still can't get your ducks in a row. How can I trust you with your inheritance? What's to stop you from shooting up again, huh, with all that money lying around? Once an addict, always an addict."

Kára's eyes darkened visibly. "Don't push me, Opa."

"I've given you chance after chance to prove yourself, and yet, you're a constant disappointment. Believe it or not, but I care about your future, Kára; and you won't have one if I continue to entertain your childish behavior."

"You want to cut me off, is that it?"

"I already gave you a million dollars. You could've taken that money and started a business. But instead, you go investing in a company you know nothing about! You know zilch about real estate development."

"You have no right to spy on me."

"That's where you're wrong. You're a spoiled brat. And if anybody tells you otherwise, they're a liar. Now piss off. We're done here."

Kára grabbed his grandfather, and whipped him around. "I will leave when you give me my money! It's my inheritance, not yours! And don't you, for one second, think that just because you're my grandfather, that it suddenly makes you a good role model! Bullshit!"

"How dare —"

"No!" Kára screamed, "Fuck you! You do not get to come in here, and lecture me on how I should conduct myself, when you're a fucking fraud yourself! Get off your high horse, Opa. The only reason we moved away from this place was because of you, and all the attention you showered my mother with!"

Walter was rendered speechless.

"I saw you, all the times you got handsy with mom. She didn't dare leave me in the same room as you. That's why we moved away! That's why my mother hated you! And that's why Oma couldn't stand to even look at you! If dad had known just what a loving father you were, he would've never entrusted a pervert like you, to be the executor of my trust fund. So don't be so quick to judge me, when you can't even conduct yourself accordingly. You're a small minded, miserable old man. I hope that when you die, your soul will rot, and you'll burn for all of eternity. And believe me when I tell you, that day can't come soon enough."

Walter threw his hand up, and he tried to slap Kára.

But Walter wasn't fast enough. Kára grabbed his arm, and shoved him.

Walter lost his footing, and he went down, hard. A sharp ache shot up his arm, as his chest began to tighten. "You, ungrateful cunt!"

Kára watched as his grandfather struggled on the floor helplessly.

By this point, Walter was wheezing as the tightness in his chest began to spread. Walter recognized the familiar sensation. He pulled out his bottle of nitroglycerin.

Walter was on his side, and his hands were shaking terribly. And the child proof seal didn't help. Walter fidgeted with the bottle for minutes on end, unable to open it.

And that's when Kára stepped in. Kára brought her foot up, and she kicked the bottle right out of Walter's hands.

"Kára..." Walter laid flat on his stomach. "Please..."

Kára hated her grandfather. And now, he got what he truly deserved.

Walter struggled defiantly, but his ailing heart won. Eventually, his body stilled, and he collapsed.

Kára watched as her grandfather drew his last and final breath. Kára waited patiently for more than thirty minutes, just to err on the side of caution. Then finally, she checked for a pulse. She found none.

Kára planted the bottle of nitroglycerin just on the cusp of his fingertips.

To an outsider, or even the authorities, this will look like nothing more than a tragic accident.

"I'm sorry, Opa, but you had to go."

\- o -

Everything was in disarray. The drama in their lives were messier than a bull in a china shop. But they collectively agreed, that with mother back in town, their lives were about to get that much more miserable. But no matter what, family came first.

News of Felix's recent prison brawl was not welcomed. They may each have their own drama to deal with, but they couldn't neglect Felix, not when he needed their support in such dire times. And that's exactly where the family was headed now.

And while on route, Sarah finally got an eagerly awaited call back.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Black. It's Roy McDonalds, here. I got your voicemail."

"Listen, Roy, I would really appreciate your help, and discretion, with the matter."

"I would really love to help you, Ms. Black, but unfortunately, Dr. Smith hasn't taught at the University, well, since your days. But I asked around the faculty, and a few of them still keep in touch. I was able to get you a forwarding address, if that helps."

"It does."

"If you don't mind me asking, Ms. Black, what is this about?"

"My company's looking for a new chief legal advisor, and I thought Dr. Smith would be a suitable candidate, given everything he's taught me."

"Oh. Well, if that's the case, you know, Ms. Black, I was recently thinking about —"

"Thank you, Roy. If you'll kindly email me that address, it'll be greatly appreciated."

And with that, Sarah ended the call.

Dr. Smith was one of the sharpest professor Sarah's ever encountered during her tenure at law school. The man was brilliant. And also a rapist. He was the biological father of Kira Dierden.

\- o -

Rachel, Alison, and Sarah had met up in the parking lot, and decided to head in first.

Cosima and Delphine stayed behind, if just for a minute. The car ride over was unpleasant. Delphine didn't know what to say to Felix, or how to break the news to him given his current plight. It didn't seem right. But it wasn't fair to her, or Cosima, either.

Cosima had, more or less, the same dilemma. She loved Felix. She could never bring herself to intentionally hurt him. But it had to be done. Cosima knew, the moment she first laid eyes on Delphine under that maple tree, behind that masquerade mask, that it was love at first sight. And for the first time in her life, Cosima wanted to fight. It was unfortunate that Felix had to be on the other end of that stick, and for that, Cosima was sorry.

"Ready?"

"Not really." Delphine said almost laughingly, "But I feel like I owe it to Felix, to tell him in person, about everything."

"Hey." Cosima cupped Delphine's face, and she kissed her, ever so tenderly. "You're not the only one at fault here. We'll get through this. I know Felix. We just need to give him some time."

"I do feel better with you here, though."

Cosima's heart ached, but her mind was made. With the accompaniment of a lawyer, she too, was going to turn herself in. Most likely by tomorrow. Whatever her punishment may be, at the very least, when everything was said and done, she and Delphine could finally start over with a clean slate.

And that's when Cosima remembered. She has yet to make arrangements with her lawyer. Cosima patted her pockets down.

"Shit. I left my phone in the car. I'll meet you inside."

"Okay."

The trek was short. Delphine walked mindlessly; her head was spinning a mile a minute, in all different direction.

"Mrs. Black."

Delphine didn't recognize the voice, but she did recognize the name. But no one's ever called her that before, at least, not the people that knew her.

At first glance, Delphine didn't recognize the stranger. But upon a second glance, Delphine was immediately taken aback by the recollection. She had met her once before, at Mount Sinai. And it was there, that the mother of the victim left her with a parting gift, in the form of a sharp slap.

"Mrs. Bloomfield?"

Delphine remembered the name. How could she not? Felix had killed her daughter, and left her husband brain dead, and in a persistent vegetative state.

"Your husband, Felix Black, he took my daughter from me. And he left my husband a ghost of a man he once was. Not a single day has gone by, where I don't blame your husband for what he did. He should have never gotten behind the wheel that night."

Delphine felt her pain. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bloomfield."

"People like your husband, they think their money makes them invincible; that they can buy themselves out of trouble. But your husband, he'll rot in prison for what he did. And, now, he'll finally know what it feels like, to have your heart ripped out!"

Kára Lang wasn't the one that paid Jason Goode. No. It was Matilda Bloomfield. She was the one that orchestrated the entire ordeal. The bloodlust had consumed her being. She was out for blood.

Delphine was capable of handling herself should a physical altercation arise. But this wasn't a fair fight. This was an ambush. Delphine did not see this coming. And she most certainly didn't see the serrated blade.

But Cosima did. Without the slightest hesitation, Cosima sidestepped in front of Delphine, and she took the blow.

The sharp blade penetrated Cosima's flesh with ease.

The open wound gushed with the ferocity of a broken dam.

There was blood everywhere.

\- o -

 **A/N: At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them. Lest we forget.**


End file.
